


Dark Lord Rising

by bladeoftheshadows11



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-18 14:45:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2352146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bladeoftheshadows11/pseuds/bladeoftheshadows11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if, instead of having to fight for his letter, a rather emotionally unstable Harry gets a visit from two Hogwarts professors? What if, instead of being forced with the Dursley's, Harry gets a new family; one that cares and looks after him? What if, by mere coincidence, Harry turns out to be more naturally inclined towards the darker side of things? </p><p>What if Harry grew up learning how to be the next Dark Lord?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface: The Beginning

An abnormally small, raven-haired boy sat curled up in fetal position; his petite frame shaking with heaved, gut-wrenching sobs. He was in a cramped, pitch-black room, with only the spiders to keep him company. Unseen in the darkness, a trickle of blood coming from his body formed into a small puddle surrounding him.

If one listened closely, they could hear a song whispered from the boy’s lips, broken only by his near silent sobs:

“…’Appy…birthday…to…me…’Appy…birth…day…to…me…’Appy…birthday…dear…’Ar…ry…’ap…py…birth…day…to…me…”

Harry—as this was indeed the one Mr. Harry J. Potter—faded off, falling into a fitful asleep from his exhaustion. Off in the distance, the fading sound of a grandfather clock ringing its last tone, signaling midnight, echoed throughout the house. Unbeknownst to an unconscious young Harry, a small, gentle whirlwind of magic surrounded him, healing his wounds and reddening his cheeks. In his sleep, he smiled slightly and sighed in relief.

The next morning, he was woken abruptly by the screeching sound of his Aunt Petunia’s voice, a banging on his small door, and a following banging above his head by his fat cousin Dudley, dust and spiders falling on his head. Use to this treatment, Harry uncurled from his uncomfortable-looking position and stretched, eyes still closed.

Suddenly, those eyes snapped open, illuminant green in the darkness, and he looked down at himself in amazement. He knew for sure that his Uncle Vernon had beaten him nearly half to death yesterday, and yet he felt not even a twinge. He lifted his tatty, thin shirt and poked at his skin in disbelief, marveling at the—for once—lack of bruises covering his abdomen, healing or fresh. His Uncle Vernon preferred to hit him where it wouldn’t show, like his stomach and back, or sometimes his legs.

Someone called his name, voice rough with anger, and he quickly pulled his shirt down, pushed on his too large and incorrect glasses, and exited his confining cupboard. He braced himself to face the wrath of his Uncle Vernon’s anger as he entered the kitchen, head low and shoulders hunched, but he couldn’t help but flinch as his uncle began to scream at him.

“How many times does a person have to call you before you come, boy?! OH! Do you think that just because you turned _eleven_ you can do as you please?!” Harry gasped as his uncle grabbed the collar of his shirt. “Well, I have something to tell you. You’re still a freak and nothing’s going to change that, so get over yourself.”

Harry was unsure about what his uncle spoke of, but he nodded his head anyway to appease the walrus-like man. Vernon Dursley was an unusual looking man; with a small bulbous head and fat body, watery blue eyes, thinning blonde hair, and a pink face. Vernon dropped him and Petunia called him to the stove.

“Finish cooking this bacon, would you.”

Harry nodded and spoke with a soft, almost melodic voice, contrasted by a harsh accent that was developed due to his poor learning of English. “Yes, Aun’ Petunia.”

His aunt raised her head, stretching her irregularly long neck, and looked down at him with her horse face before storming out, muttering something about stupid freaks living in her house. Though he knew she wasn’t serious. He realized a long time ago that Petunia could never muster up the hatred she had for her sister against him. It was simply against her nature as a mother to hate a child. And no matter what, he could not in turn hate her, not like how he hated his uncle and cousin.

Harry heard Dudley start whining about food and Petunia’s nauseating baby talk assuring his overweight cousin that the bacon would be done soon. He heaved a small sigh and stepped on his tippy-toes to handle the bacon without burning his arm; he was only just tall enough to do so without the assistance of a chair. A normal morning as always in the Dursley household.

It wasn’t until he was serving breakfast to the Dursleys when he heard the doorbell ring. His Uncle Vernon glared at him and demanded him to go open the door. Harry flinched and scuttled off to answer it quickly. He opened it to reveal two strangely dressed people; a severe looking woman with black hair tied in a tight bun and tortoiseshell glasses, and a tall man also with black hair, and dark eyes to match, with an expression so cold, Harry felt the need to shiver.

He straightened and tried to look as tidy as possible in his awfully large shirt and trousers, too many sizes too big and stained from too poor and too few washings. “Yes? ‘Ow may I ‘elp ya?”

The woman blinked in shock, leaning forward and looking over her spectacles to take a better look at him. She took in his underdeveloped, malnourished frame, his poorly dressed attire, and his eyes, dark with fear and weary acceptance. Her lips parted in a silent gasp and she turned to the man beside her.

“Severus…” The man—Severus, Harry now knew—regarded him without a change in his expression, but his dark eyes were alight with Harry could only guess was anger. He wasn’t sure why, but he did know that if these people didn’t leave soon, his Uncle Vernon would be very mad.

He cleared his throat. “S’cuse me…Was there somethin’ that ya needed?”

The woman returned her shock gaze to him and opened her mouth to speak, but just then Vernon screamed from the breakfast nook.

“Boy! What on Earth is taking you so long?! Get yer ass back in here and finish serving breakfast!” 

Harry gasped and looked with horror widened eyes at the strangers at the door. “I’m sorry. Could ya possibly come back later with whateva business ya ‘ave?  I—I’m so sorry.” He closed the door shut and ran back to finish serving the Dursleys before his uncle got really mad.

The woman and Severus glanced at each other, the woman with her lips tightened into a thin white angry line, and Severus only showing his anger through the fractional tightening around his eyes. Together they turned away and began to walk away from number 4 Privet Drive. They walked in silence for a short while, until Severus spoke.

“Minerva…we must get him away from there.”

The woman, Minerva, nodded vigorously. “Yes, but where will we take him? Severus, Albus had to have known how Harry is living. Is it possible that the Headmaster simply…doesn’t care? By the way he ever spoke of Harry, I assumed that his main goal was to turn the child into a weapon, and I would not have allowed that anyway, but this…”

“I know.” Severus glowered at nothing in particular. “I think…I have an idea where we can leave him. A good friend of mine who will take Harry as his own and not pamper him either, but mainly because Albus would never guess there.”

Minerva’s eyes widened with realization. “Do you think? But isn’t he…?”

“I know where his loyalties lie and once we tell him what we have seen…I’m sure he will feel the same in tenfold. He has a son of his own and would kill anyone who even thought of treating the kid that way.” Severus nodded with finality. “Yes, he will do.”

Minerva bit her lip, her views on the man overrode with her concern for Harry’s safety. “We will return at nightfall, then, and take Harry away from that horrid place. I only hope he comes peacefully.” Severus nodded in agreement.

Back at the Dursely’s, sometime in the early evening, after slaving away cleaning up nothing, Harry could be found in the kitchen preparing dinner. With two people in the family who ate enough to feed five men, each, it always took Harry hours to prepare a sufficient enough meal to feed Vernon and Dudley without complaint. Harry could only be thankful that Petunia was not the same, in fact, the woman ate only twice as much as Harry did, which wasn’t a great lot. And luckily the dinners were so enormous that Harry could get away with stealing a small bit of something without getting caught every once in a while.

Dinner completed and served, Harry waited patiently, as he did every day, for the Durselys to finish their meal and for Vernon to contemplate on whether or not Harry was good enough for the day to deserve a meal. He held back a small smile at his Uncle Vernon’s look of satisfaction, which usually meant that he could possibly have a piece of meat with his bread and water.

“Alright boy. After you clean this up you may have your dinner. Petunia, give him a small slice of ham with his bread would you? When you’re done with your dinner, serve me my tea so that I can go to bed, boy.” Vernon stood and Harry nodded.

“Yes, Uncle Vernon. Earl Grey tonigh’?”

His uncle Vernon thought for a moment before nodding. “Yes. I’ll be in the living room watching the evening news.”

Aunt Petunia kissed Uncle Vernon on the cheek and turned to Dudley. “Go get ready for bed, Duddykins.”

Dudley’s face went red. “I don’t _want_ to go to bed! I want to watch T.V.”

“Okay, dear. One hour, then bed time okay?”

“Two hours!”

“Alright, my darling, now go.”

Dudley waddle away and Harry gathered all the plates and bowls before hurrying into the kitchen. As Aunt Petunia bustled around behind him, Harry quickly washed all the dishes, leaving them spotless and shining. He learned how to do it so quickly and sufficiently by years and years of practice, the same with his cooking skills. He finished and turned around to see Aunt Petunia leaving, and no the counter was a plate with a slice of bread and two huge slices of ham on top, a full glass of milk beside it. Harry’s face lit up with a huge grin and he quickly rushed to the food, eating all of it quickly as if Uncle Vernon would come in and take his plate away. He washed the glass and plate and quickly made Uncle Vernon’s tea.

The walrus of a man was lounging in his usual chair in the living room when Harry entered with his tea and crackers. Uncle Vernon barely spared him a glance. “Good boy. Now go into your cupboard and go to sleep.”

Though Harry wasn’t sleepy in the least, he did as he was told and entered his cupboard, curling under a thin baby blanket on his small, darkly blood-stained cot and closing his eyes. A few minutes later he heard his Uncle Vernon’s thundering footsteps go up the stairs and a while after that he heard Dudley whining and crying about having to go to bed. A few hours later, Harry was finally drifting off to sleep when a pretty silvery-white light filled his room.

Curious as to what it was—something like this never happened before—Harry sat up and gasped at the pretty silver cat sitting at the foot of his cot. The cat approached him and rubbed against his body, purring softly. Over the purring of the cat, Harry heard a voice fill his cupboard.

“ _Harry…follow the cat._ ” Said cat stopped purring and jumped off the cot, waiting patiently for him to do the same.

Curious as to what was going on, Harry climbed out of the bed and donned his glasses. As soon as his feet touched the floor, the cat was moving, body disappearing straight through the door. Harry scrambled to follow, opening the door just in time to see the cat vanish out the front door. He felt slight trepidation about opening the front door—he wasn’t supposed to open it unless his Uncle Vernon told him to—but soon curiosity overruled and he opened the door as quietly as possible.

Once again, the door opened to reveal a man and woman, the same ones as before in fact, and the pretty cat no longer there. Harry gasped and quickly closed the door behind him, wrapping his oversized shirt around his body tighter against the cold night air.

“What are ya doin’ ‘ere? When I said come back later, I didn’ mean this late.” His fear for these strange people loosened his tongue and he lost his polite mannerisms. He glanced frightfully at the window above, leading to the master bedroom where Vernon and Petunia slept, and lowered his voice. “If ma Uncle Vernon wakes up—.”

“Harry, would you like to get away from this place?” The woman said, leaning down to meet Harry’s gaze.

His eyes widened and his mouth gaped. “L-leave? B-but ‘ow? I’ve—.”

“We are going to take you with us.” The cold man, Harry remembered that the woman had called him Severus, drawled. The man stepped forward and knelt in front of Harry. “We are going to take you to someone who will not harm you; who will give you clothes that fit and so much food that you will feel as if you to combust. Would you like that Harry?”

Harry hesitated. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Severus—the man might’ve looked mean and cold but he spoke to Harry with a warm voice—but there was one thing Harry wanted that the Dursleys never gave him. Ever.

“Will they…will they…love me?” He swallowed and braced himself for the answer, sure that the man would say no. No one wanted a freak, anyway.

“Of course.” Harry looked up in shock and saw Severus’ expression matching his own. He had the inkling feeling that the man’s demeanor didn’t slip that often and that Harry truly surprised him with his question. “Of course, they will, Harry. Why wouldn’t they?”

“Becuz…” Harry’s voice dropped to a mere whisper and he bowed his head in shame. “It’s becuz I am a freak.”

Severus suddenly grabbed his arms and Harry looked up to see his dark eyes once again alight with anger, black fire swirling within his irises. “Harry, you are not a freak. Do not believe anything those people told you. They are sick, twisted, evil people and I do not understand how Albus could bear knowing you were treated like this.” The last part was a mutter not directed at Harry, but he responded anyways.

“Albus? Who is that?”

“Albus Dumbledore; a man I once thought great and wise, but now I believe I see his true colors.” Severus looked up at him. “Will you come with us, Harry? We cannot delay much longer.”

Harry didn’t have to think about it before he was nodding his head eagerly. The Dursleys treated him like crap and if he had a chance with staying with a family who would actually love him, who was he to deny that opportunity? The woman clapped her hands together and Severus stood.

“Proper introductions are in place, then.” She smiled at him. “Harry, I am Minerva McGonagall, a professor at Hogwarts.”

Harry blinked. “Yer a teacher?”

“Yes, and so is Severus.” She elbowed said man.

Severus scowled at her, but softened his expression when he looked at Harry. “I am Severus Snape, Potions Master, as well as a professor at Hogwarts.”

Harry nodded. “I am ‘Arry Potter, but I think ya already know that, doncha?”

Minerva smiled. “Yes. Now it’s time to go, Harry.”

With nothing in his possession but the clothes on his back—and even those were hand-me-downs—Harry was ready to go. He looked around for a car and frowned when he didn’t see one. He looked up at Minerva inquiringly.

“Wait, ‘ow are we leavin’? I don’ see no car. Are we takin’ the bus or train?”

Minerva smiled and held out her hand. “Hold my hand, tightly now—there you go.” 

As soon as he had a tight grasp on her hand, Harry felt a sharp tug around his navel and a weird sensation of his body being pulled and squeezed and ripped apart. Suddenly his feet hit solid ground and his knees buckled, making him fall to the ground. It was hard for him to breath; he took slow shaky breaths, just like he did when Vernon broke one of his ribs once.

Minerva helped him up when he had his breath back, but he only lost it again once his eyes laid upon the giant, magnificent mansion in front of him. It was pure white and enormous, with at least three or four stories and balconies and everything. Something flashed in his peripheral and Harry gasped at the sight of a pure white peacock walking leisurely across the lawn. He turned around to look at Severus, who had been watching his reaction with faint amusement.

“I’m…goin’ to live here?”

Severus nodded. “You will have your own, vast sized room to yourself.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “I’ll have a big room?”

Severus pursed his lips at his vocabulary but nodded an affirmative. Suddenly, the front door to the manor opened and out stepped a tall man with hair so blonde it was nearly white, and even glinted silver in the moonlight, and silvery blue eyes. He clearly had the build of a rather muscled man, with broad shoulders and a slightly wide chest, but carried a grace and ease of someone much more elegant and feminine. Harry gasped and slipped behind Severus, grabbing the trousers of the man in his fist. Severus ignored him and greeted the blonde as the man approached.

“Lucius. I take it your day as been well?”

The man, Lucius, stopped and arched an elegant brow at Severus. “Save the pleasantries, Severus. What are you doing intruding on my property at near midnight?”

Severus put a hand on Harry’s back and pushed him gently, but firmly. Harry resisted slightly, eyes on the blonde man. Lucius’ eyes landed on him and his other brow joined the first.

“Severus, is this who I think—?”

“We need you to take him in, Lucius.” Lucius turned to look at Minerva as she spoke.

“A Griffindor on Slytherin territory.” He smirked playfully. “How daring.”

Minerva stuck her tongue out at him childishly, and Severus interrupted before the tow could start into their usual bantering. “Lucius, can we please take this inside? The boy is wearing rags unfit for an urchin on the street.”

Lucius frowned a bit, eyes scanning Harry’s attire, and turned away, walking towards the manor. Severus moved forward, limping slightly as Harry wouldn’t release his leg. Harry wasn’t afraid of Lucius; he just didn’t know how to act around a man who could possibly take him into his home and feed and clothe him…and even possibly love him. Lucius led them to a sitting room where a fire was already roaring in the fireplace, crackling and dancing happily. Harry still wouldn’t let go, therefore forcing Severus to take the couch, while Minerva and Lucius sat in armchairs.

“May I please have an explanation now, Severus?”

“It is fairly simple, and yet it completely disgusts me.” Severus’ jaw clenched. “You see what he wears, Lucius; these are all the clothes he has in his possession, all his guardians allowed him to have. Look at him; he is completely malnourished and unusually small for his age.” He leaned forward, fists tightening in anger. “I suspect he was being abused. He called himself a freak, Lucius.”

Lucius’ eyes widened and he turned to look at Harry. “Is this true, Harry?”

Only slightly surprised that the man knew his name, Harry swallowed and straightened. “It’s what ma Uncle Vernon and ma cousin Dudley call me, sir. When I was younger, I thought it was ma name until I began grade school, sir.”

Lucius grew paler than his already fair complexion, eyes darkening more blue than silver in his anger. “And these…people…are your guardians?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, sir. I was told to cook and clean everyday and if I did good I got to eat dinner, but if I did bad, like burn somethin’ while cookin’ or miss a spot when cleanin’, I would get little-to-no dinner and Uncle Vernon would beat me, sir.” He shrugged carelessly, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Well, sometimes ‘e would beat me anyway. ‘E said it was to get the freak outta me, sir.”

Beside him, Severus was extremely tense with anger and Minerva was crying softly in her chair. Lucius stood, his expression cold and scary. Harry briefly wondered if he said too much, if the man thought that him being a freak would make him not take Harry in.

“Severus, I think we need to pay these despicable people a…visit.”

“I agree, Lucius, but first we must discuss Harry—.”

“Does Dumbledore know about this?”

Minerva sniffed and straightened in her chair. “We believe so. The whole reason we went to Harry’s house in the first place was because his Hogwarts letter was addressed to the ‘Cupboard Under the Stairs’.”

“ _He lived in a cupboard?!”_ At this point, Lucius was beyond livid. Though he was still paler than usual, his cheeks were flushed with anger and his whole body vibrated with tension.

It touched Harry to know that someone cared so much about his well-being and he began to cry. Almost immediately, Lucius was kneeling in front of him, taking his hands. His expression held no more anger, but was lined with worry.

“Harry? Did I scare you? I am sorry; I am not angry with you.”

Harry shook his head, unable to speak between his sobs, and threw himself into Lucius’ arms. The blonde was frozen in shock for a split-second, but he quickly wrapped his arms around Harry and lifted the boy into his embrace. Harry, even as he cried, marveled at the warmth of being in Lucius arms. It was something he never felt before and the revelation only made him cry harder. Lucius held him in his arms patiently, slightly rocking him until his sobs subsided and he could only bury his face into the conjunction between Lucius’ neck and shoulders with embarrassment.

“Harry? Are you okay now?” Harry nodded, now feeling rather worn out from the long day. He tightened his grip on Lucius and fell asleep, sighing softly.

Lucius looked at the tear-stained, sleeping face. Harry’s dark rat-nest he called hair was shifted just so that a small, lightning bolt shaped scar showed on his forehead. His face was pale and his cheeks hollow and in Lucius’ arms, the boy felt lighter than a feather, his bones sticking out everywhere. Lucius looked away from Harry’s face to Severus.

“I would hope that your plan was to leave him with me, because I am taking him either way.”

Severus smirked and nodded. “That was the plan, yes.” He stood, Minerva mimicking the action. “Our job now done, we will take our leave. I will more than likely visit later this week to see how he is doing.” His expression became serious. “Lucius, you have to be careful of triggers. More than likely, Harry will be traumatized by this; anything can make him snap. Just be glad that all of your rooms are about the size of a small house, or else you would never get him to be still; he probably has claustrophobia. And watch him—he might start cleaning or cooking or anything else he did at that revolting place.”

Lucius nodded. “He will be fine. With Draco around, he will never have enough time to feel that way.”

Severus smiled and, with one lingering glance at Harry, exited the room. Minerva followed closely behind him, assured that he knew the way out.

“Severus, are you sure he will be safe here?” She—not in the least worried about Lucius less than golden reputation, but rather Harry’s well being in general—asked.

“He will be fine. I know you saw just as well as I did how much care he has already put into Harry. The kid fell asleep in his arms.”

Minerva looked into the distance worriedly. “If you say so…” They apparated back to Hogwarts.

Back in the Manor, Lucius carefully carried Harry to one of the guest rooms. For now, Harry would have to stay in one until one of the house elves prepared a proper room for him. As Lucius placed Harry into the bed, the boy reached out and grabbed his hand in a tight grip before slowly releasing it with a soft sigh. Lucius smiled softly and tucked Harry in, making sure he was completely covered, before leaving, closing the door softly behind him.


	2. A Chance at a New Life

Though technically this is an early update, I will not being doing many of these. The purpose of this one is to set an updating schedule, which from here on out will be every Saturday, unless I'm  _really_ happy--note that comments make me the happiest--otherwise, ENJOY!

* * *

When Harry woke up the next morning, he immediately stiffened. His bed was neither this soft, nor this warm, and he always woke to the sound of one of his relatives screaming at him for this and that. More than often his uncle. He lowly opened his eyes and was greeted with a sight that made him gasp softly.

An angel was his first thought of the boy in front of him. But then he banished the thought as he remembered that angels didn’t exist—they would’ve saved him from his horrible uncle if they did—and the boy didn’t have wings if they indeed did exist. It was a valid consideration, however. 

The boy staring unblinkingly at Harry was unearthly in his beauty. His skin was as pale as the pretty white flowers Aunt Petunia made Harry take care of when they blossomed, and looked soft as clouds. His hair was nearly as white, but with a faint golden glow to it, and was styled in fluffy yet organized tuffs—much unlike Harry’s—in a halo around his face. He had wide, slightly almond shaped eyes that would slowly narrow as time passed and he aged, that were a pretty shade of grey that reminded Harry of the sky when it was raining. Along with it came a small nose that was slightly tilted upwards at the tip that kind of gave him a smug look. His lips were thin, the top lip slightly bigger than the bottom, and were a soft shade of red that enhanced the paleness of his skin. He was taller than Harry, and slender, but not sickly so like Harry.

“Hello.” Harry blinked at the soft melody of the boy’s voice that was slightly edged with an icy sharpness. “My name is Draco Malfoy. My father says you are going to become my brother.”

“I—.” Harry’s voice was as soft and melodic as Draco’s, but with a warm edge to his tone.

If someone looked at the two, the first thought in their head would be how alike and yet different the two were. Like different sides to the same coin. Or like yin and yang.   

“My name is ‘Arry. Is yer father…Lucius?”

Draco nodded. “Yes, he is. He told me that Uncle Severus and Aunt Minerva brought you here to stay. Father tells me everything. He said that we were going to take you to the Ministry today for a blood adoption. I came to wake you up to join us as we break our fasts.”

Break our fasts? Draco must mean breakfast, Harry concluded. He nodded eagerly.

“Okay. We can go now?”

“Of course.” Draco backed away from the bed as Harry climbed out. His nose wrinkled as he took sight of what Harry wore. “After we dress you in appropriate clothes, anyway. You can borrow some robes from my closet. They might be slightly long on you, however.”

Harry shook his head. “Anythin’ but this is fine.”

They quickly left the room and turned down the hall towards Draco’s room. Draco took the moment to analyze Harry. Even without having any actually lessons or training, Harry had the inner grace and poise befitting any Most Ancient and Noble house. Much like Draco, he had the blood of two old families flowing through his veins, making it that much easier for him to adapt to their customs. Already the raven walked with purpose and refinement befitting royalty.

A gasp left Harry’s mouth as soon as he entered Draco’s room. Much different and bigger than the guest room he was sleeping in, Draco’s room was one he always dreamed of having. A large canopy bed with two, large windows on each side overlooking a beautiful garden below and huge fluffy pillows scattered on top…A tall bookshelf that touched the ceiling, overflowing with books…Comfy looking chairs…A desk with a neat stack of papers in the corner, a small inkwell beside it. All decorated in silver, black, and dark green. Harry felt right at home in Draco’s room. 

“Let’s start with a bath, okay Harry?” Draco said, grabbing Harry’s arm and dragging him towards a door.

It opened to reveal a bathroom decorated in pale blue and black. In the center of the room was a huge bathtub that was built into the ground, at which Harry gaped at. He was going to take a bath in _that?_ Before, his uncle gave him a bucket full of cold water and told him he had five minutes. His head whipped around as Draco began to speak.

“Father told me that you used to live with filthy Muggles, and therefore I assume that you do not know how to operate a magical tub. No matter, it is simple. All you do is approach and touch that small mark right there, and the tub will begin to fill with water. It was stop when it is full enough, and will already be at the perfect temperature to enter.”

Wow magic. Harry swallowed. “Thank ya Draco.”

The blonde blinked. “It is nothing to be thankful for Harry. Everyone deserves a nice bath.”

“Oh.” Harry’s brow scrunched. Was it just his relatives, then, who treated him so poorly. Or was it what Draco called Muggles in general.

He could assume that Muggles were people that could not do magic, and that he was someone who could, as a boy who at since a young age could always do the inexplicable and classified impossible. And Draco probably was one too. And Lucius, Severus, and Minerva. And that Albus guy too.

 Maybe Muggles were just…horrible people who could not understand that there were those who could do things they could not. Who were better than them.

“I will leave you to your bath then. Try not to take too long; Father and Mother are waiting for us.” Draco smiled slightly at him and left.

Heeding Draco’s words, Harry quickly approached the tub. It took him a moment to find the mark Draco had been talking about, but touched it immediately after finding it. The mark glowed brightly for a moment, and then water was suddenly pooling at the bottom of the tub, constantly growing bigger. He stared in awe and shock for a moment before backing away slightly and pulling of the dirty rags he wore.

By the time he was done, the tub was full and waiting, a thin waft of sweet smelling steam curling lazily into the air. Harry eagerly climbed into the tub, eyes widening as soft heat engulfed his body. He released a soft moan as his muscles began to relax of their own accord. A moment later he reluctantly sat up and began his search for soap. Upon finding it, he washed his body and afterwards his hair. Thoroughly. When he finally climbed out, the water was grey and murky with all the dirt that came off his body.

For a moment, Harry stood there feeling completely refreshed. He never felt so clean in his life. Then he jumped at the sound of a sucking noise, and turned to find the water being mysteriously drained. Turning back, he hunted down a soft, white towel which he immediately wrapped around his too thin waist.

He felt Draco’s eyes on him as he left the room. Grey orbs that easily counted all of his rubs, took in all the silvery scars on his flushed body, the sharp curves of his jutting hips, the thin, ropey sinew that lined his bones from hours and hours of labor every day. Harry looked down, feeling shameful. He was ugly and a freak, and he knew it.

“Harry…” Draco breathed, making his way over.

Harry had to hold in a flinch as Draco reached out for him. He knew Draco didn’t, and would never, mean him any harm. But it was a near reflex to flinch away whenever hands neared him. Too many times his uncle had hurt him using his hands.

But the blonde merely pulled him into a hug. Harry tensed for a moment, then melted into the warmth Draco had. It felt so nice. He had never been hugged before. Now he knew why Dudley had liked to cuddle with Aunt Petunia so much. A hug made you feel so…so…wanted. So loved.

Harry remember the night before, when Lucius had held him when he cried. That was a hug too, he realized. He felt the same as he did the night before. Warm. Welcomed. Loved. He shuddered softly, and Draco pulled away to smile softly at him.

“Harry, no one is ever going to treat you like that again. Unbelievable that such low life scum Muggle did this to you.” Draco frowned briefly. “You are above them Harry. You are a wizard. They should be cowering at your feet, kissing the floor you walk on, worshiping the air you breathe.”

“Yes.” Harry nodded in agreement. He _was_ better, wasn’t he? He could do something Muggles couldn’t. Or rather, he would learn to do it. But he still had the potential that Muggles didn’t and could never have. 

The two shared a grin. A bond was rapidly forming between them and they could feel it. An unbreakable union was forming, one that would soon shake the world. 

Draco led him to a door to his left that opened up into walk in closet full of clothes. Harry gaped, hesitantly reaching out to touch a piece of cloth nearest him with a reverent expression. He had never seen so many clothes of such great quality in his life. Draco gave him a considering look.

“Silky black with forest green inner cloth and silver trimming, I think.”

Draco stuck out a hand and multiple articles of clothing came swishing towards him. Harry’s eyes bulged. Magic. Draco draped the clothes over his arm, holding it out towards Harry.

“Yes, I think this will work. Father will agree, I hope.” Draco thrust the clothes out into Harry’s arms. “Get dressed quickly Harry. I will be waiting for you outside.” 

As the blonde strutted from the room, Harry took the moment to analyze what he wore. The blonde had on dark grey robes that shimmered silver in some places where the light hit it, with black trimming. Underneath he wore a silvery, light blue button down shirt with pants the same color as his robe. As the robe flicked upwards briefly, Harry caught the sight of pale blue cloth on the inside. Again they were opposite.

The door shut and Harry quickly laid out the clothes before him. The shirt was a button down, a green that was nearly black, and soft to touch. He could already tell by one look that the pants were too long, but were otherwise equally soft and colored black. His shoes looked just like Draco’s, but were black instead of dark grey.

Remembering Draco’s words, Harry quickly got dressed, sparing a few moments to marvel at the softness of the clothes. As he thought, the pants were too long, but not critically so, but the shirt fit him near perfectly. The robe was a hair’s breadth from touching the ground, and swished around when he moved. Satisfied and happy that everything was on correctly, Harry skipped from the closet room and beamed at Draco.

Standing in front of a tall chest Harry missed earlier, Draco gaped at the raven in front of him. The blonde knew that his to-be brother had a beauty and grace within, but he didn’t realize how much a bath and a simple wardrobe change could bring out and enhance such characteristics.

Though slightly big, the robes otherwise fit Harry well. They made him look slim instead of malnourished; the black brought color to his cheeks, and the flash of dark green made his eyes glow almost. The cut of the robes also fit him just as well as it did Draco, making his already royal-like poise almost god-like. Already Harry seemed more confident and outspoken than when Draco first met him earlier in the morning. Harry frowned at his blonde companion.

“Draco?”

His hesitant, questioning tone pulled Draco from his stupor and the tall blonde approached the raven, holding something in his hands that glinted. As Draco got closer, Harry noticed that it was in fact a thin white chain.

“Father came in a moment ago and told me to give this to you. He looked rather rushed for some reason. I find that he is probably having some trouble with the Ministry.” Draco frowned slightly. “I hope he is able to convince them to let him adopt you. I am afraid I am already quite attached to you Harry.”

Harry giggled and threw his arms around the blonde. “And I, you.”

When he pulled away, Draco made him turn around so that the blonde could out on the chain. A slightly cool weight settled between his collarbones and Harry reached up to touch the smooth stone resting on his skin. He lifted it to find it completely, and pure black. Calm energy pulsed against his fingertips; sporadic, but no less passive. He turned and looked at Draco.

“What is this?”

“Your family stone. I have mines here.” Draco grinned and reached into his shirt to pull out his own stone. His was oval like Harry’s, but was completely white and was suspended on a black chain. “They are called Agate stones. We share the yin, yang stones—obviously—yours represents power and tranquility, and mines represents harmony and security. Cool right?”

“Very.” Harry looked down as he rubbed the stone between his fingers. It gave a particularly strong pulse of energy, causing him to smile slightly. He loved it already. “What about Lucius and—and yer mother?”

“Father and Mother? Mother’s name is Narcissa by the way.” Harry flushed when Draco sent him a smirk, obviously catching his slip. “Every family has the same stone type—the Malfoy’s obviously is Agate—and Father’s stone is a Fire Agate that represents passion and stability, and Mother’s stone is a Blue Lace Agate that represents loyalty and support.” 

“Wow.” Harry stared in wonder.

Draco gave an emphatic nod. “Yep. Now we should definitely go to the breakfast nook. I believe we are late.”

The blonde grabbed Harry’s hand and rushed him from the room and down the stairs. As they approached what Harry assumed to be the doors leading to the dining room, they slowed down considerably and Draco fussed over Harry as the two walked. The blonde quickly straightened his own clothes before pushing the doors open and strutting inside, Harry followed at a more moderate pace.

His gaze first landed on Lucius, who smiled softly and gave him an encouraging nod. Then his eyes swept over and caught Narcissa, the last of the Malfoy family for him to meet. The woman sat regally, looking relaxed and calm as she smiled widely at him. Harry could see where Draco got some of his softer features from.

Unlike Lucius and Draco, Narcissa’s hair was a deep, bluish-black that fell in soft waves to her mid-back. She had wide, vibrant blue eyes surrounded by thick lashes. Her skin tone was overall a shade or two darker than Lucius and Draco’s, but was still quite pale; nowhere near Harry’s own olive shade. Harry saw where Draco got the tilt in his nose from, and also his high cheekbones. As a matter of fact, now that the three were together, Harry could see that Draco actually looked more like his mother than his father.

“Dear Harry…” Narcissa began, her soft tone beckoning Harry’s attention. “Do not be so shy, child. Come here, let me see you.”

Blushing slightly, Harry ducked his head and took quick steps until he stood in front of the Malfoy matriarch. Her fingers caressed his jaw and urged his head upwards until his face was tilted towards hers. And yet he continued to look downwards. He did not know how to react in front of Narcissa Malfoy. His to-be mother.

When meeting Lucius, Harry and Severus and Minerva there to help and support him. Not to mention it was rather easy to see Lucius’ reactions when the man was told of Harry’s previous life as he was right there. No doubt Lucius had already told everything to Narcissa, therefore preventing Harry from knowing how she would react. Draco was…it was almost an unconscious effort for Harry to immediately trust the blonde. He couldn’t explain, but he felt as if he knew Draco for many years already.

He heard a light chuckle and reflexively looked up and met Narcissa’s warm eyes…Eyes that looked so familiar to him…it was strange. The reminded him of his own eyes whenever he had the chance to see his reflection at the Dursleys. But that was weird…they weren’t related yet…were they?

“Harry, child. You are much too beautiful to hide your face and eyes so. In just a few short hours, you will become a Malfoy, thus you must act so. You already have the ancient and noble blood of both the Potters and Blacks, my sire family. I can see your potential, Harry, so do not hide behind your shyness, okay?”

Harry flushed. “Yes, ma’am.”

She tsked playful. “None of that. Call me mum, okay?”

His eyes widened as his heart tempo increased. Mum. He’s never said that before. “Yes…m-mum.”

“Good.” Her smile widened and she ruffled his hair. “Now come on Mr. Bird’s Nest, I am sure you are rather hungry, yes?”

“Oh, yes.” His eyes lit up eagerly and Narcissa laughed.

“Then let us eat.”

Harry turned when his hand was grabbed, and found Draco smiling widely at him. “Sit with me, Harry, okay?”

“Un.” He hummed.

Draco pulled him over to the table, across from Narcissa and next to Lucius, who sat at the head of the table. Harry’s eyes widened. He never sat at a table before. Draco, noticing Harry’s trepidation, shared a worried look with his father. The Malfoy patriarch frowned slightly before beaming a smile at Harry.

“Harry.” The raven looked up. “What would you like to eat? The house elves will make whatever you like.”

“’Ouse…elf?” Harry’s head tilted cutely to the side. “What’s a ‘ouse elf?”

Lucius’ jaw twitched for a moment. “A house elf is essentially a bound servant of a household. It cooks, cleans, and does whatever we tell it to.”

“Oh.” A considering look came over Harry’s face. “So…does that mean I used to be a ‘ouse elf?”

A thunderous expression washed over Lucius’ face and he stood. “No, Harry! You never were and never will be a house elf—!”

The man abruptly stopped as he caught sight of Harry’s face. The raven cowered slightly in his seat, biting his lip hard in an attempt to resist flinching and curling into a ball. Draco looked on between the two with wide eyes and Narcissa had her hand over her mouth, brow furrowed. Harry shook slightly, tears building in his eyes.

“S-sorry.” He said in a quiet, heartbroken voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’ mean it.”

Expression immediately softening, Lucius swooped around the table and scooped Harry into his arms. Harry wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and tried to resist sobbing. Lucius pursed his lips as he rubbed Harry’s back, sharing a look with Narcissa. The woman stood and joined her husband, running a soothing hand in the young raven’s hair. Draco bit his lip, standing and reaching up to try and grab Harry’s hand. He was too short, however, and could not reach, frustrating him.

Harry, hearing Draco’s huff, peeked over Lucius’ shoulder with red rimmed eyes and reached out to Draco, who smiled and grabbed Harry’s hand tightly. Together the Malfoy family soothed their newest member.

~oOo~

 ** _This_** means it’s in French guyz.

“Lucius, what is the Min-is-ter-y?”

The blonde looked down at Harry, who blinked curiously at him as they walked hand-in-hand through the Ministry of Magic. Narcissa and Draco walked beside them, expression carefully composed in a stoic face while in public.

Before they left for the Ministry, Lucius explained to Harry that the Malfoy’s had a certain appearance they had to maintain in front of the public, or else they would appear as weak willed and others would try to destroy the family name. Harry caught on rather easily and eagerly asked to be taught on how to do the same. Lucius took him through a quick crash course lesson on how to compose his features to not reveal any emotions, something Harry had caught on to easily thanks to the Dursleys.

“The Ministry is composed of multiple departments that control different aspects of the Wizarding World. Our Minister is a part of a panel called the Wizengamot who decided very important things, such as our laws and regulations, and also decide on how to administer such things.”

“Oh.” Harry nodded slowly. “Which de-par-ti-ment are we goin’ to?”

“The Department of Child Welfare, Harry.”

“And they are goin’ to do the blood ad-op-o-tion?”

Lucius’ hand tightened on Harry’s for a moment as his eyes narrowed dangerously. “That is my expectation, yes. If they are not as willing as they previously agreed to…there are other ways to convince them.”

Harry brightened for a moment, until he remembered to keep his expression blank. Then he quickly straightened his face and looked on ahead, though he couldn’t prevent his eyes from shining with mirth and excitement. The rest of the way to the Department of Child Welfare was silent as Harry analyzed the sights before him. His jaw nearly dropped when they rode the elevator and paper airplanes swooshed inside and went still as they waited for their stop, zooming off once they arrived. But he clenched his jaw and simply watched curiously.

Magic. It was all magic.

The elevator finally arrived at their stop, announcing Department of Child Welfare in a static voice. Harry shared a look with Lucius, who allowed a brief smile to appear in his eyes, as they exited the elevator.

There was a calm aura in this particular department, no one was rushing around and papers weren’t flying everywhere. Harry was thankful; he wasn’t very fond of crowds and walking through the Atrium had been bad enough. Hence why he held Lucius’ hand. Said man guided him towards a door that had a small plaque reading _James Smeag_ in curvy letters.

Lucius knocked and received a muffled reply.

“Hold up, hold up. Lucius is that you?” The door opened to reveal a tall man in sharp robes, a five o’clock shadow gracing his boyish face, and his hair a ruffled mess. He glared at Lucius with a scowl. “Of course it’s you. Punctual as always.”

“James.” Lucius smiled sharply at the man. “If you would please let us in?”

“Yeah, yeah.” James scrubbed his head and released the door, turning into the small office and waving them inside. “You know I hate late notices, Lucius. I was up all night with this one. You fire-call me at two o’clock in the morning ranting on about how you needed a blood adoption ready right away because it was _such_ an emergency. Ugh, you are so lucky we’re old friends or else I would’ve sent you straight to St. Mungos with that one.”

“Of course. Thank you, James.” Lucius sat down, stretching his arm out because Harry, who sat in the chair beside him, was still clutching his hand.

James’ dark gaze immediately zeroed on Harry. He arched a brow. “This the kid? Cute tyke, a little shy though. Can’t be a shy Malfoy, kid, especially going to Hogwarts. Slytherin’ll eat you alive.”

“Leave him be, James.” Narcissa said sharply, noticing the way Harry’s eyes widened.

The man, also noticing Harry’s expression, sat back in his chair. “He’ll learn soon enough. I got everything ready, Lucius, if you are.”

“Now would be as good as any, James.”

“Don’t get sarcastic on me, blondie.” James pulled out his wand and swished it around.

An assortment of things appeared on the desk. A smooth silver bowl with symbols carved around the rim, a simple fine tipped brush, a wicked sharp dagger with more symbols along the edge, and a stack of papers with a quill on top. James shoved the papers at Lucius.

“If you would sign in the marked places.”

Lucius quickly grabbed the quill and signed the designated places with rapid flourishes. He handed James back the papers with a small smirk. James rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Alright, let the ceremony commence, blah-de-blah-de-blah.” He picked up the dagger. “If I may so graciously have your palm, Lucius?”

As so it began. James swiftly cut Lucius’ palm, letting the man close his hand into a fist, and flipped his hand over so that the blood dripped into the silver bowl, chanting in a different language all the while. He did it again with Narcissa, and again with Draco until the small bowl was full of dark red blood. Then he beckoned Harry forth.

“You’ll need to take your robes and shirt off, kid.”

Glancing at Lucius, who gave him an encouraging nod, Harry quickly removed his upper body clothes until he stood in his trousers, his stone glinting softly on his chest. Both Lucius and Narcissa sucked in sharp gasps at the scars and obvious signs of malnourishment that covered his body. Harry flushed and fidgeted, repeating the words Draco had told him in his head. He was better than these Muggles. Superior to them.

James nodded absently as he stirred the blood in the bowl with the brush until the soft bristles were covered in the thick liquid. “I see why it was so urgent now, Lucius.”

“Yes.” Lucius’ voice was tight as he continued to stare at Harry’s abused body. “If we can please continue. Harry is uncomfortable.”

“Yes, yes.”

Using the fingers of his left hand to tilt Harry’s face gently upwards, James began to chant again, moving the brush along Harry’s forehead. The blood was cool on his skin and didn’t drip down, of which he was thankful for. He didn’t want to look like some horror movie, like the one he caught a glimpse of one once when Dudley and Piers had snuck it. While he found the movie to be quite amusing, he learned that others didn’t quite feel the same way.

James moved from his forehead and down, bringing the brush down his nose and over his lips in a long red streak where he stopped to draw another symbol on his chin. When he was down there, he began another strip down his neck to the middle of his chest—minding Harry’s necklace of course—and drew another symbol. Then he made two different paths from there, one going down his right arm to stop with a symbol on his palm, and again on his left arm with the same symbol on his palm. Then James returned to his chest and made a line straight down to his belly button, making another on around the indent. Then he made Harry turn around and made another symbol on the nape of his neck, making another path down to the small of his back, drawing another symbol there.

He had been chanting the entire time, but now he stopped as he made the last mark on the symbol on Harry’s back. Then he stepped back with a satisfied look. For a moment, nothing happened. Then Harry’s eyes widened as the drawn blood on his skin began to warm. His heartbeat increased in tempo as his blood rushed through his veins, and Harry could swear he could feel every blood cell rushing through his body.

His knees gave out from under him and he fell to the ground, clenching his jaw as his body temperature rose exponentially until he felt as if he were boiling right then and there. A sharp pain pulsed through his body repeatedly until he was gasping for breath, curling over himself in an attempt to lessen the pain. It hurt _so_ much. Then his body began to itch, badly. His face, his scalp, his skin. His blood, his heart, his chest. Everything itched and hurt at the same time. Tears welled as even his eyes began to itch and burn. A wind kicked up in the room, swirling around him and creating a mess in the office. His magic swirled around, trying comfort him.

And then, as soon as it began, it suddenly stopped. Harry slumped to the ground in relief, taking a shuddering deep breath. Well, that hurt. His body twitched and resisted with lingering ghost pains as he slowly climbed to his feet. When he opened his eyes—which he hadn’t realized he’d closed—he frowned as everything was blurry and unfocused. Then he had an impulsive, hopeful thought and took of his glasses, grinning and looking around as he found everything to be crystal clear. He happened to glance at his arms and noticed that the blood there was gone, apparently absorbed into his skin. He looked up and found everyone staring at him with wide eyes. James was straight up gaping, his eyes switching between him and Draco. Harry tilted his head to the side with a curious expression.

“Harry—look.” Narcissa conjured a mirror and passed it to him. Harry peeked at it, and gaped at what he saw.

He looked almost completely different. His hair was still black, yes, but it was longer, falling in soft waves to his shoulders. It was no longer unruly, and the black was more a bluish-puplish than the dull, light absorbing shade it was before. His eyes were the same shape, but had developed a sort of bluish tint with a silvery shimmer within the green, making the already strange color more otherworldly. His nose had the same tilt at the end as Narcissa and Draco. His cheekbones were higher. His lips were fuller. His skin was paler, and all his scars were gone, save the strange one on his forehead. He looked…a lot like Draco actually. Just different colors.

All in the room could see it. He looked just like any Black down the line. Apparently Narcissa strong Black blood activated the dormant Black genes inside of him, causing such an extraordinary change in his appearance. He looked more like Narcissa than Draco did.

All of a sudden he blinked and looked up at Draco, who stared at him with the same expression. Harry’s brow furrowed as something compelled him to reach out and grab Draco’s stone. He could tell Draco had the same urge by the twitching of his hand. After a moment, neither of them could resist any longer and simultaneously reached out a clutched each other’s stones.

A bright light appeared and the two gasp. It felt like their souls were sliding from their bodies, twining together. Their magic did the same a moment later, until both soul and magic from both of the swirled together and a mirage of black and white with shards of blue and green and silver swirled within. The whirling mass separated into halves and slammed back into their bodies, making them gasp and pull away.

They opened eyes they hadn’t realized they closed and stared at each other in wonder. They both felt full. Complete. It was a strange, but no less fulfilling, feeling.

“Impossible.” They turned to find James staring at them with wide eyes. “Soul Mirror Twins. I thought that was only a myth.”   

“As did I.” Lucius agreed, staring at the two of them.

“Oh, boys.” Narcissa gathered both Harry and Draco into her arms, holding them close. The two shared a look over her shoulders, shrugging in unison. Narcissa only held them tighter.

Harry blinked, putting a petite hand on her back. “M-mum?”

Narcissa pulled back to look at Harry. “Yes, Harry love?”

“Are ya okay?”

Her eyes glistened slightly with gathering tears. “Yes, Harry, I am fine.”

“Are you sure, mum?” Draco asked. “Because you are crying.”

“They are tears of happiness, Draco. You both will understand when you grow up and have children of your own.”

Looking up at her husband, Narcissa stood and casually wiped the tears from her face. Lucius smiled at her flustered expression and took out his wand, waving it so that the red blotch and teary stains on her cheeks disappeared; her face once again flawless. She smiled gratefully at him before turning to James.

“Thank you, James, for performing the blood adoption ritual for us on such short notice.”

The man grinned, coming around his desk to shake hands with Lucius, and kiss the back of Narcissa’s hand.

“No problem. Anything for the Malfoys.” His hands landed on the top of Harry and Draco’s heads, ruffling their hair much to their annoyance. “Especially for these two little cuties. Beware when they hit puberty, girls’ll be throwing themselves at these two left and right. Probably a few guys too.”

“We shall worry about that when the time comes, James.” Lucius smiled at the man. “But for now we must be going. We have other business to take care of.”

“Oh, alright. Don’t be a stranger, Lucius. We have to catch up one of these days.” James waved them off, digging into his pocket and pulling out a carton of cigarettes.

“Of course he will, James.” Narcissa smiled over her shoulder as she ushered the two boys out, Lucius right behind her.

The blonde man sighed in relief once they were on the elevator. “A friend he may be, but James surely knows how to annoy me.”

Narcissa kept her face straight, though her eyes shined with laughter. “Indeed, my dear. He knows how to push all your buttons too.”

Lucius snorted softly, but said nothing. Catching the pause within the conversation, Harry took the chance to tug on Lucius’ sleeve.

“Lu—Father?” Lucius looked down at him in surprise. “Are we returnin’ to the Manor now?”

“No, Harry. Now, we will take a portkey to **_France_** _.”_

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Frawn—fran—.”

“ ** _France.”_** Draco said, smirking a little. “It is just France in French, Harry.”

“Well, I don’ know French, so how would I know that?” Harry glared at his blonde brother, who shrugged cheekily.

“Mr. Malfoy!” Someone cried out, catching the attention of the twins. A slightly robust man with a curly mustache and beady eyes made his way towards them, smiling widely.

Lucius pursed his lips slightly, eyes cold. “Mr. Wahterbugge. I presume our portkey to **_Centre de la Sorcellerie_** is ready?”

“Yes, yes.” The man nodded eagerly. “Follow me please.”

Draco frowned slightly as they began to follow the man. “Father, why are we going to **_Centre de la Sorcellerie?_**  Is there something not at Diagon Alley that you need?”

“We are going buy the requirements for Hogwarts for you and Harry. **_France_** has better quality than anything we can find in England.”


	3. Centre de la Socellerie

When Harry finally stopped spinning, he immediately let go of the portkey—a blank sheet of parchment, strange enough—and fell to his knees, burying his head between his thighs. He fared no better than he had at his first attempt at side Apparation with Minerva, or his first time Flooing, and his head kept spinning, making him sick to his stomach. He felt a soft hand on his back, immediately identifying it as Draco. The blonde was crouched down beside him with a worried expression.

“Harry?”

“Mmm.” Harry slowly lifted his head to blink slowly at his brother. “I’m fine. I don’ think I like the wizard way of travelin’.”

Draco gave him a hand and helped him into a standing position. “You will learn.”

“I doubt it.” Harry grumbled as he looked up. He was then stunned into silence.

The area before him was beautiful. Thick, dark green grass swayed softly, bright splatters of colorful flowers breaking the ended flow of meadow. Foliage surrounded them, leaves of green, orange and red moving gently in the slight breeze. Unseen birds sung harmoniously into the air in a cheery melody. Sweet smells swirled about, thickening the air with aromas of all kinds. But it was what was in the middle of the natural that held Harry’s attention.

Cute little buildings lined into a half circle, both curving sides connected by a large, white marble building at the center. A moving mass of people entered and exited such buildings, a fast paced traffic of bodies. The area was far from quiet, full of conversations and those yelling at pitches and sales, of child’s laughter and animal noises. Harry was already in love with the place. **_Centre de la Socellerie._**

“Where to first, boys?” Harry looked up to find Lucius and Narcissa looking at them curiously.

“Oh, to Monsieur Francis, father!” Draco said excitedly. “Our wands first, please!”

Lucius chuckled. “Alright. His store is closest anyway.”

Harry’s eyes widened as they made their way inside the crescent marketplace. He was going to get his very first wand. Today. Right now.

As Lucius had said, the store was very close. In fact, it was only a few steps away from them. It was a quaint, beige colored store, with gilded swooping letters that spelled out **_La Boutique de Monsieur Francis._** In the crystal clear window sat a gleaming dark wood wand on a plush royal blue pillow with gold trimming. Harry could feel the magic pulsing from the place, growing stronger with each step towards it he took.

A soft tinkling, bell-like noise filled the room as the door opened. Harry scooted closer to Draco, subtly grabbing the blonde’s hand. Draco did not react, other than squeezing Harry’s hand tightly in his own.

“ ** _One second! I am coming, just give me one moment!”_** Came a voice from the back of the building. Harry glanced at Draco, who quietly translated the words into English for him.

Soon as the last word came out of Draco’s mouth, a man bustled into the room. He was a tall man, with a lithe body and long limbs. He had long brown hair that was pulled into a ponytail, and olive green eyes that were wide and friendly. His robes were open and left to billow out behind him in a cascade of black and pale gold.

“ ** _Ah, Mr. Malfoy! I have been expecting you with your boys!”_** Monsieur Francis’ voice was deep but airy, and he talked in rapid French. “ ** _You are here for their wands, yes? I remember the day I made your wand. You’re real wand anyway. Birch wood fused with Dragon’s fire, a twine core of both dragon and phoenix heartstring. A rare core twine, double fire, but very much acceptable. Good offensive wand.”_**

Lucius smiled thinly. “ ** _Yes, it works magnificently. If you do not mind, Monsieur, may we continue this discussion in English? Harry cannot yet speak French.”_**

 ** _“Ah, yes of course.”_** Monsieur Francis started again in thickly accented English, eyes curiously on Harry. “Thee ‘oungest and neweest Malfoy. ‘Arry, come ‘ere, child.”

Steeling his nerves, Harry raised his chin and stepped in front of Monsieur Francis. Their eyes locked and Harry felt a wave of magic wash over him, causing him to gasp softly and look away. Monsieur Francis clucked his tongue.

“Zuch ‘atreed in one zo ‘oung. Eet eez not fair for one zo ‘oung to go through zuch zeengz that make ‘im feel thiz way. I shall ztart vith ‘ou. **_Oui!_** Come, we go to zee back.” A look of consideration passed over the man’s face. “ ** _Non,_** ve vill ‘ave both. **_Jumeaux Miroir,_** bah! I cannot zeparate zeem, cauzez probleemz. Oh vell. Ve go.”

Harry shared a questioning look a Draco, but one look from Lucius had them both scuttling after Monsieur Francis, who had went on ahead of them. They went past rows and rows of thin, long boxes. Harry stared at them, able to feel the magic flowing out of the boxes. Wands. Monsieur Francis caught him looking.

“Zose are premade vandz. For zose ‘oo are unorthodox and cannot vait for zeer personalized one. Zo unprofessional. If zey vant such crap, zey can go to Olleevanderz! But, remember zees ‘oug ‘Arry azeet will ‘elp in ze future—It iz zee purpose of a buzeeness to please itz costumeers. Ve aim to please, okay? **_Oui!_** Pleazeer controlz zee ‘uman. Pleazeer, and pain. Remember zat, ‘Arry.”

A shiver went down Harry’s back. Something inside of him resounded with those words. It left a huge impact on him, on his mind. He knew that he was not going to forget those words anytime soon. A small hand grabbed his and he turned to find Draco looking at him concerned, a question in his eyes. Harry shook his head and turned around just as Monsieur Francis came to a stop.

“ ** _Oui!_** ’Ere ve are. My vorkshop.”

The room was divided into five sections. The first section was to Harry’s immediate left, and was an area full of planks of both smooth and grained wood. After that to Harry’s center left was a section of jars full of different liquids, some in vibrant colors and other dull. Center right was the third section that in itself was divided into five sections. Going by what he saw over there, Harry assumed it was divided up by the elements—air, fire, water, earth, and spirit. The last section to Harry’s immediate right was the same as the one before it, divided into five sections for the five elements, but with different items. In the center of the room was a simple table that had many tools on it. Harry assumed it was where Monsieur Francis made his wands. 

“ ** _Aller!_** Ve do not ‘ave all day, unfortunately. Go, go! Choose your ingredients!”

Sharing a look, Harry and Draco approached the area with the wood planks. They were uncertain on what they were supposed to do—pick the one they thought looked nice or what?—and so for a moment they just stood there. Then Harry felt a strong pulse coming from one of the woods. He glanced around until one plank in particular caught his eyes.

It was probably the darkest woods out of all of the ones there. Harry stepped forward and touched it, liking the feel of the smooth, cool texture. Now closer, he could see the thin strains of dark and light brown veining in the black. A pulse thrummed under his fingers and Harry knew that this was the wood for his wand. He lifted up the plank and glanced over in time to see Draco do the same with a wood that was also dark, but lighter than his.

“Ah, Ebony and African Black Vood.” The wandmaker’s voice came from behind, making Harry turn around quickly. “Interesting. I vill take zose, and ‘ou two continue on.”

Harry reluctantly passed the wood to Monsieur Francis, already missing the warm feeling it brought, and continues on to the jars full of liquid along with Draco. Now understanding what he had to do, Harry was faster in choosing what he needed for his wand next. Eyes barely scanning the shelves, he was already walking towards one jar in particular.

It was a small jar that was more tightly sealed than the others, and was even separated from the other jars. The liquid it contained was pure white with a faint greenish-blue glow to it. Though white, Harry could tell the liquid was thin, like water. He carefully picked up the jar and held it tightly—though not too tight—between his hands. A glance at Draco revealed that his brother had also found his, a jar full of a clear liquid that somehow glowed faintly with pale red and orange.

“Bazileesk venom and Phoenix teerz.” Monsieur Francis murmured, his brow furrowed as he took the two jars. “Interesting…continue.”

The third was so far the easiest. Harry could feel that compelling pulsing before he even reached the third section. Without stopping, he approached the shelves and plucked a strip of a black, cloak-like that was slightly smoking at the edges. Draco chose a pure white feather that moved as if there was a breeze.

“A piece of cloth from a Dementor’z cloak, Zpireet. Ze feazer of a winged horse, an Abraxan to be exact, Air.” Again, Monsieur Francis. “Go on, to the last one.”

Just as before, Harry felt the attraction as soon as he began walking. He reached out and grabbed a vibrant red, orange, and yellow feather that was nearly as long as his arm and as wide as his hand. To his side, Draco chose a colorful, oval-shaped object that looked like an extremely large fish scale.  

“Hmm. A double vor both ov ‘ou, eh?” Monsieur sighed. “Neezer ov ‘ou are eazee, but I vould ‘ave it no ozer way. Let me zee…oh, a Phoenix feazer, Air dominant and Vire. And a Mermaid’z zcale, Water dominant and Zpirit. Vell…one more zing, and I shall start ‘our vands!”

The last thing was measurements. Monsieur was quick to measure their right arm lengths, and then their height. Then he gave them each a ball of puddy and told them to squeeze it tightly. He nodded many times before shooing them out of his workshop and back into the front of the store. Lucius and Narcissa had conjured chairs and sat waiting for them, talking quietly together.

“Zey are done! **_Oui!_** I shall ‘ave zeir vands readee in two ‘ours, no more.”

Lucius and Narcissa stood. “Thank you, Monsieur Francis.”

“ ** _Non, non._** ” He waved a dismissive hand. “I vill enjoy thees. But…can I talk to ‘ou a moment, Lucius?”

“Of course.” Lucius shared a look with Narcissa before following Monsieur between the shelves carrying the premade wands.

 ** _“I am worried, Lucius.”_** Monsieur Francis began in French. **_“They have chose things for such strong weapons. Combinations I have never in all my career seen before. With those wands, I would pray those two find plenty of happiness in their lives, or else we are done. They have the potential to control the world.”_**

 ** _“What?”_** Lucius frowned. **_“What do you mean?”_**

**_“I mean those two, but Harry in particular, will grow to be very, very powerful adults. I already have sympathy for any who cross them.”_ **

**_“What have you Seen, Monsieur?”_ **

Monsieur locked eyes with Lucius, his pupils dilated. **_“Fear and Death. Pain and Pleasure. Chaos, with them in the center.”_**

Lucius took a deep breath. **_“Okay. When the time comes…I will have a talk with them.”_**

**_“They will need more than that.”_ **

“Father?” Two contrasting yet harmonized voices called. Two heads poked into the hall, one dark and the other light.

“I am coming.” Lucius spared one more glance at Monsieur and followed the boys out. 

“Lucius?” Narcissa spared her husband a quick glance as they left the wandshop.

“Later, my wife, when we have privacy.”

“Father, where are we going now?” Draco asked.

Lucius frowned. “You will need time for your robes to be made, so to **_De Votre_** next, I believe.”

Inside **_De Votre_** , the was a pencil thin woman wearing flattering, soft green robes with her hair pulled into a loose bun. She was maybe Narcissa’s height, if not a bit taller, with pretty blonde hair and vibrant blue-green eyes. She greeted them with a nice smile and a warm welcome.

**_“Welcome to De Votre! How may I help you?”_ **

**_“I need robes for my sons.”_** Lucius said, and Draco once again quietly translated for Harry. “ ** _For the blonde only three sets school robes are necessary, but the raven needs an entire wardrobe. For now he needs only the basics; three casual for both day and evening each, three formal also for day and evening, and also two sets of school robes. And a black winter coat with silver fastenings. The best cloth you have only.”_**

**_“Understood. Any particular color schemes?”_ **

**_“You must ask him. But he cannot speak in French…”_** Lucius gave her a pointed look and she nodded curtly.

“Understood.” Her accent wasn’t as thick as Monsieur Francis’, of which Harry was grateful for. “Let us begin. ’Ello, boys. If you both will follow **_moi_**.”

She led them into a room surrounded by mirrors, and multiple stands so that the customer can see themselves from multiple angles. The woman hummed softly as she guided them onto their own stands and began to collect what she needed.

“My name is Charlotte, but all my friends and clients call me Cherri, so you may too call me zat.”

“I am Draco and this is my twin brother, Harry.” Draco stated, gesturing to himself first then Harry.

“Tweens?!” Cherri laughed. “I could not tell at first, but now I see. You are a little smaller, ‘Arry, **_non_**? But I am sure you boz want zee same styles?”

“Yes.” Draco nodded. “Oh, and for Harry’s robes, he wants them one of each in complete black—like our school robes; for his casual day, one in light grey with pale gold inner cloth and black trimming, and the other royal blue with pale olive green inner cloth and silver trimming; for casual evening, one in dark grey with pale lavender inner cloth and dark purple trimming, and the other forest green with black inner cloth and trimming. For formal day, one silver with pale blue inner cloth and black trimming and the other…black with light green inner cloth and trimming; for formal evening another forest green one with the black inner cloth and trimming, and the other midnight blue with silver inner cloth and trimming.”

“Are you sure?” Cherri looked up from her notepad at Harry, who nodded empathetically. “Okay, zen. I will take your measurements, and zen you can go.”

Cherri took their measurements quickly, humming again as she went. Harry stood still as a statue as she did, his eyes intensely on her face as she went. The only other nice woman Harry knew was Narcissa, and also Aunt Minerva, and so he wanted to make a friend out of Cherri. But he didn’t know how. Done, Cherri straightened with a smile and snapped her measuring tape close.

“Alright! You are done, **_oui?_** Nozing else?”

Harry shook his head slowly while Draco chirped out a ‘no’. Cherri focused on Harry, her smile slipping a bit.

“Are you okay, **_chére_**? Because you are awfully quiet.”

“I’m fine.” Harry practically whispered. Draco came to his rescue.

“He is a little shy, so do not mind him. We will go now.”

Cherri’s smile returned and she reached out to gently ruffle Harry’s hair. “It is fine. ‘Ee will grow and smile more often, yes? You ever need anyzing, ‘Arry, you call Cherri.”

“Okay.” Harry’s cheeks heated and he quickly ran out of the room. Draco laughed and followed after him along with Cherri, who turned to Lucius.

**_“Your boys are adorable, sir.”_ **

**_“Thank you.”_ **

**_“I will have their robes down in an hour, yes? It would usually be less time, but you asked for the finest.”_ **

**_“It is no problem.”_ **

**_“Alright. Then I will see you in an hour.”_ **

Cherri waved them out and Harry returned it with a small wave of his own, causing the Frenchwoman to smile bright at him.

They left the robe shop and one place in particular caught Harry’s eyes. It was a small, slightly dusty, old looking shop that one wouldn’t usually notice. Except books were Harry’s passion, and he could sight a bookstore a mile away. He tugged on Lucius’ sleeve and pointed towards the little building that read, **_La Librairie pour Vous._** Lucius frowned slightly.

 “Are you sure, Harry? There is a better bookshop down the road.” 

“Nope.” Harry shook his head firmly. “I want to go to that one.”

“Me too, Father. I like this one better.” Draco agreed. 

Lucius sighed slightly. “Okay. Let us go in, then.”

When the door opened, just like at the wandshop, a small tinkling noise filled the air. A man with messy brown hair and dark eyes looked up from a book on his lap and smiled widely at them. He sat on a stool behind the counter, but stood when he saw them.

“Yes? How may I help you?”

Harry sighed in relief. This was the first person to begin talking in English without the need of Lucius asking them to do so because of him. Being in France without knowing French was more than a bit embarrassing for him, and he swore to learn the language as quickly as possible.

“Yes, I need to sets of school books for my sons. First year Hogwarts students.” Lucius said with a proud glance at the twins.

The man blinked, turning his eyes to them; his smile becoming reminiscent. “Ah, yes. I went to Hogwarts. A snake, through and through.”

“A fellow Slytherin?” Lucius blinked. Harry and Draco were both just as surprised. The man did not look at all like a Slytherin. “A pleasure to meet you, then.”

“Thank you. Oh, yes. My name is Charles Longbottom.” He held out his hand for Lucius to shake.   

“Longbottom?” Lucius’ eyes narrowed. “I did not know Alice and Frank had two children.”

“Yeah, well…” Charles shrugged, his lips twisting into a bitter grin. “I was disowned soon as my grandmum found out I was a Slytherin. Then she put up all her hopes and efforts into Neville. Poor kid.”

Lucius finally accepted Charles’ still held out hand and shook it firmly. “Lucius Malfoy.”

Charles smiled. “I know who you are. And last I heard, you only had one son.”

“Then you heard wrong.”

“Ah, then it is my fault, **_non?”_** He turned with a smile to Harry and Draco. “And I am assuming these two are to be Slytherin’s?”

“I expect nothing else.”

“High expectations there, Mr. Malfoy, but I have no doubt they’ll get in the House of Snakes. It’s in their eyes. Now,” He clapped his hands together. “If memory serves me right, you two will need _The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1_ by Miranda Goshawk, _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot, _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling, _A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch, _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore, _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger, _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander, aaaaand… _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble. Did I get them all right?”

“Your memory is spectacular, Mr. Longbottom. I suggest you take the boys with you to pick up the books. No doubt there are other ones not on the list and not in our library they will want.”

“No problem. If you two gents will follow me…”

An hour later, Harry and Draco had all their school books and then some. While Draco only had one or two books, Harry had a small mountain of books of which he was giddy to read. They ranged from simple fiction books, to a history book on Merlin. They both left satisfied and with a promise to return for a visit to Charles, or Chuck as he preferred to be called, who they both had bonded with. Though there was something strange Lucius had said to Chuck as they left.

“May your scales forever shield you from enemies.”

Chuck smiled and responded with, “And may your venom always kill your foes.”

Maybe it was Slytherin thing, Harry established. A way of saying goodbye in the fashion of the House of Snakes. Or maybe it was a secret code for something. Well, he was sure to find out once he and Draco went to Hogwarts.

Afterwards, they went to **_L'apothicaire et Trucs_** for their cauldrons—they could only get pewter much to Draco’s disappointment—crystal phials, and brass scales. Then they had to go to an astronomy specialized store that did not have a name for their telescopes.

By that point, another thirty minutes had passed and the Malfoy family was making their way back to **_De Votre._** But they happened to pass by a place called **_Animaux de Maurice,_** from which many loud noises came from. It caught Draco’s eyes and the blonde boy turned to his father, grey orbs wide and begging. Catching the look, Lucius sighed, already defeated .

“Fine. Go on.”

Smiling widely, though quickly composing his face, Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and dragged him into the pet shop. Harry had no choice but to follow.  

“We can only have one pet, apparently, at Hogwarts. A cat, an owl, or a toad. Honestly, I do not understand why anyone would want to have a toad. They are just so…slimy. And gross.”

“I think an owl would be nice.” Harry mused.

Draco glanced back at him. “Then let us go to the Owlery.”

Approaching the feather grounds, Harry looked around curiously.

He scrutinized the dark colored Screech owls, inspected the slightly haughty Eagle owls, deliberated the mean looking Hawk owls, studied the large Barn owls, considered the friendly yet quiet Tawny owls; yet, none appealed to his eyes.

Draco had left him to coo over the Eagle owls, who all seemed to get a kick out of hooting at him. Harry thought he was a lost cause on finding an owl.

That is, until he reached the Snowy owls.

One in particular caught his eye. She—as it was clearly a girl—seemed asleep with her head tucked under her wing, but Harry noticed her golden eyes peek out every so often, always on him. He approached her and reached out to gently pet her soft, pure white feathers. She startled and raised her head to pierce him with a glare. As soon as he met her golden gaze, Harry knew that this owl was the one he wanted.

“Hey, there pretty.” He cooed softly. “Do ya want to come home with me?”

The owl studied him for a moment, before nipping affectionately at his fingers and hooting softly. She fluttered out her wings, flapping them slightly as she jumped from the ledge she’d been sitting on to his shoulder. Her sharp talons dug slightly into his muscle, but he didn’t wince, continuing to coo and pet her.

“Angel. I rather like that name, doncha too? My own Angel.” She hooted and nipped his ear gently. “Angel it is.”

He went back towards the Eagle owls, approaching just in time to see one particularly large one landed on Draco’s head, fluffing his wings as he looked smugly at the other owls. It was pure black, apparently the only one out of the entire group. Draco smiled, reaching up to pet the large avian.

“Draco.”

The blonde turned and smiled at Harry. “Hey, Harry. This is Noir, my Eagle Owl.”

Harry gestured to Angel. “This is Angel, ma Snowy Owl.”

“Excellent. Shall we go tell father?”

“Un.” Harry was following Draco when he heard a voice coming from his right.

“ _Oh, what a life! Stuck in this stupid cage, with these idiots!”_ Harry blinked and turned towards the voice.

He only saw the reptile area. Directly in front of him was a cage harboring three snakes, two green ones of different shades and another, a black one whose scales shimmered purple as it moved. He walked closer.

“ _Shut up, bastard! You think we want to be in here?!”_

 _“I don’t care what you want!”_ Just as vicious as the apparently disembodied voice, the black snake suddenly struck at one of the other ones, the darker green one, causing it to recoil.

“ _Jeez, calm down! What are you, a female in heat or something?!”_

 _“I’ll show you a female in heat!”_ Harry’s brow furrowed as he stepped closer to the tank holding the snakes, watching as the black one furiously led a continuous attack on the other snake.

Their actions shadowed the words spoken out loud. But…it was impossible for snakes to talk, right? At least…talk in English. He couldn’t understand snake…could he? Looking around, he stepped closer, watching the snakes as he listened to the argument.

“ _Ever since you and that other one came here, all you do is complain, complain, complain!”_

The dark green snake recoiled and leapt for the black snake, who jerked away.

“ _I wouldn’t complain so much if you weren’t here!”_

_“Oh really!”_

The black one moved its head back and forth in obvious irritation.

_“Yes!”_

_“Fine! I’ve been wanting to try to escape this place anyway!”_

The black snake suddenly moved away, quickly slithering towards the edge of the cage. Eyes widening, Harry watched as it began to climb up the side of the glass. No way…

Without thinking, he rushed forward. “ _Wait!”_

 _“What?!”_ The black snake jerked and turned its head towards him. “ _Did you just speak to me? Are you a Speaker, then, little hatchling?”_

_“What is a Speaker?”_

_“One who speaks the ancient serpent language. One who carries the blood of the All-Father, the once great Naga King.”_

_“Oh.”_ Harry swallowed. _“So then I am Speaking snake?”_

_“It’s called Parseltongue, hatchling—.”_

_“He is clearly an idiot!”_ The dark green one slithered up. “ _Look at him! So little for a human! I could eat him in one swallow. Though I don’t want indigestion.”_

_“Shut it before I eat you!” The black one hissed, jabbing at the other one, who winced and went away. “Little hatchling, if you could be so kind as to take me out of here? I will either die or kill someone if I have to stay here any longer!”_

Harry frowned. “ _I don’t know if I can…snakes aren’t allowed at my school.”_

_“I am a master in the art of hiding. I can hide either in your room, in your school bag, or even on your arm under your sleeve.”_

_“I don’t know.”_ Harry bit his lip. He didn’t want to leave the snake. But to break school rules before he even began…? Even if he didn’t care, Lucius would probably be disappointed in him. And he really didn’t want that.

“Harry?”

He whirled around and found Lucius behind him, frowning slightly. He didn’t see Draco or Narcissa, and assumed they were together somewhere in the store. With a last, longing glance at the black snake, he reluctantly made his way to his father.

“That is a beautiful owl you have there, Harry.”

“Yeah.” He reached up and petted white feathers. “ ’Er name is Angel.”

“I see.” Lucius stared at Harry for a moment. “Are you okay, Harry?”

“ ’M fine.” He resisted the urge to glance back at the snake tank.

But Lucius wasn’t a Slytherin for no reason. “You were at that snake tank a moment ago, before I called you. Do you want a snake, Harry?”

The raven bit his lip. “No.”

Lucius arched a brow at him. “Are you certain? Draco plans on sneaking a miniature Crup into school, though I have warned him against it. Crups eat a lot, you see. I was not aware miniature crups existed, however. A pure white one with crystal blue eyes, at that. It seems he has found himself with two rare pets. What was I saying? Ah, yes. Do you want one of those snakes, Harry?”

Immediately understanding what Lucius was conveying to him, Harry immediately brightened. Not even realizing his actions, he grabbed Lucius’ hand and dragged him over to the snake tank. The black snake rose as he returned.

“ _You have returned, Speaker. Have you come to your decision?”_

 _“Yes!”_ Harry chirped, missing Lucius’ surprised look. “ _My father said I can. If I put my hand in the cage, will you climb up my arm?”_

_“Of course.”_

Harry did just that, using the arm without Angel hanging off it, waiting until the snake was completely on his arm before pulling his hand out and looking up at Lucius. “I want this one.”

Quickly composing his features, Lucius nodded and guided Harry to the cashier, where Draco and Narcissa waited. Draco smiled boyishly and bounced in place when he caught sight of Harry. Noir was still on his head, and he had a bundle of white fur cradled in his arms. The miniature Crup, obviously.

“Harry! Meet Snow, my mini Crup! She is adorable, is she not?” The beast’s head lifted and its clear blue eyes landed on Harry, causing it to let out a soft mewling bark.

“I ‘ave a snake.” Harry lifted his arm and pulled up his sleeve to reveal his new black creature. “But ‘e don’ got no name yet.”

“Oh.” Draco frowned, then brightened. “What about Night—?”

“No.” Harry deadpanned.

Draco frowned. “You are such a git.”

“Better a git than a—.”

“Harry! Draco!” Narcissa glared at them. “Watch your mouths.”

Just then, a slightly robust man approached with a happy grin. “ ** _Oui, oui!_** ‘Ello, I am Maurice! ‘Ou want to buy these pets, **_non_**?”

“Yes, please.” Lucius nodded, gesturing at the two boys and their animals.

“Ah.” Maurice clapped his hands together. “Zee rare Eagle owl, eh? People thought a black owl was a bad omen, but no! it is beautiful creature, yes? Ah, the miniature white Crup, too?  You have an eye for aesthetics, no? Ah, and you. A Znowy owl; hard to zell in general, but she was a tough one. Mean to everyone, eh? And a—oh. Are you sure you want that one, young one?”

Harry frowned, eyes narrowing. “Whaddya mean?”

“Well, he is one of the most dangerous snake species in the wizarding world! One bite will kill a grown man in mere minutes! A vicious, man-eating killer, that one! Not meant to be handled by a small child.”

“ _Hah!”_ The snake snorted. “ _What crap is he spouting? I am an herbivore, Master. I wouldn’t eat meat if I was starving.”_

Crossing his arms, Harry leveled a look on Maurice. “I like ‘im. I want ‘im.”

“But—.”

“If he wants the snake,” Lucius said in a cold voice. “then give him the snake.”

Maurice swallowed. “Y-yes sir.”

Harry left the pet shop satisfied. Angel was in an owl cage, but Nox—the name he decided for his snake—blatantly refused and stayed coiled around Harry’s arm. Draco’s Noir was also in a cage, but Snow was curled in his inner robe pocket. The quartet finally headed for **_De Votre._** Cherri greeted them with smiles and a flurry of cloth when they entered.

“Ah! **_Mon chére_** and ‘eez brozer! ‘Ello, welcome back!” She wave merrily at them before heading into the back. “Your robes were ready nearly an ‘our ago! What happened?!”

She came back out carrying two medium sized boxes, one with Harry’s name in flourishing letters, and the other with Draco’s. “ ** _Oui!_** ‘Ere we are! Robes of ze finest quality! Zank you for coming to my ztore!”

Smiling, she handed the boxes to Lucius, who shrunk them and put them in his pocket. “It was our pleasure, Mademoiselle.”

“Oh, please. Call me Cherri! Come back anytime, okay? And ‘ou two come play anozer time, yes?”

“Yes, Miss Cherri.” The two chorused.

She grinned. “So cute!”

As they left, Draco suddenly gasped. “Harry!”

“Yes Draco?”

“We are going to get our wands now!”

“Yes, we are Draco.” Harry said dryly. “Nice one.”

“Shut up! Could you be a little more excited?”

Harry frowned. “I’m excited. On the inside.”

“Do not be such an introvert.”

“I will when you stop bein’ an idiot.”

“Boys!”

They gave synchronized cringes along with a cowed, ‘Yes, mum’. She gave them a stern look as Lucius held the door to Monsieur Francis’ for them.

“Ah. ‘Ou reeturn! Just on time, too! I ‘ave ‘our vandz ready!” Monsieur exclaimed happily as soon as they entered.

It looked like he had just came from his workshop, carrying two black slender cases in each hand; one with Harry’s name etched in gold, the other with Draco’s etched in silver. He grinned at them.

“It vaz a challeenge. But I am not zee great Francis for no reazon! I ‘ave zuczeeded. ‘Ere are ‘our vandz. Tezt zeem out, no?”

Taking his case from Monsieur’s hand reverently, Harry swallowed at the faint thrum of power emitting from the box. With shaking fingers, he carefully lifted the lid and gazed down at his wand. It was nestled in crushed velvet, the bright red bringing out the dark brown and red undertones within the black. It gleamed in the light, and power seemed to radiate from it.  

Harry picked it up carefully, gasping softly at the rush of energy filling him. Going along with his instinct, he brought the wand upwards and gently swooshed it downwards. Colorful sparks came out of the tip and he giggled softly. A small laugh not unlike his own caught his attention, and Harry turned to see Draco holding his own wand, also surrounded by colorful sparks. Their eyes locked and they shared identical grins.

“ ** _Parfait!_** ” Monsieur Francis clapped his hands together. “Ebony foozed with Bazileesk venom, vith a core twine of Dementor’z cloak and Phoenux feezer, light-weight and very supple. African Black Vood foozed vith Poenix Teerz, vith a core twine of Abraxan feezer and Mermaid zcale, light-weight and flexible. Ze vandz are perfeect, no?”

“Yes, thank you.” The twins said in unison.

“ ** _Oui._** ‘Ou are mozt velcome, boyz.”

 ** _“Yes, thank you Francis.”_** Lucius said. **_“We could not have found better quality wands anywhere else.”_**

 ** _“Of course not!”_** Monsieur puffed up. **_“I am the great Francis! There is no one better!”_**

**_“Yes, of course. If you may excuse us, but we must be off…”_ **

**_“Ah, yes. Of course.”_** Monsieur turned to the boys. “Yes, ‘ou two be good to zoze vandz, okay? And be good _vith_ zoze vandz, okay?”

“Yes, sir.” The boys nodded.

As if two eleven year old to-be Slytherins could keep such a promise.


	4. Hogwarts

The Headmaster of Hogwarts was angry. No, he was livid.

How could he, the great Albus Dumbledore, fail?

Harry Potter was missing. There had been some problem or the other with his acceptance letter and so Albus sent Minerva and Severus to find out what was going on. The two returned from the Dursley residence late at night to inform him that Harry Potter did not live there.

Albus growled, pointing his wand at a shelf holding his trinkets and shouting an angry ‘Reducto’. The explosion caused things to fly everywhere in pieces, but Albus was still unsatisfied. He pointed his wand every which a way, yelling ‘Reducto’ every time.

He wanted his weapon back.

~oOo~

September 1st was a rather gloomy day. The sky was overcast, the wind was crisp, and there was a little drizzle, too weak to be considered rain but too strong to be ignored.

At least, on the Muggle side it was.

Platform 9 ¾ was very bright and lively. The sun was shining, there was naught a cloud in the sky, and birds chirped off in the distance. Gleaming in the strong sunlight was the Hogwarts Express, shining bright red in all its glory. People—adults and children alike—bustled around, shouting and carrying things to and fro. 

Well, with the exception of a few families in particular. The Malfoys being one of them.

Harry and Draco stood side by side, facing Lucius and Narcissa. In the two months prior to this day, Lucius had drilled proper pureblood etiquette into Harry ruthlessly. It was a relief for both of them that Harry already unconsciously held himself with the poise and grace of royalty, that of which only needed to be slightly refined.

Now Harry could control how much ‘royalness’ he put into his stance, and he could control his features almost as perfect as Draco. His brother was practically a master at having a stoic face, the only exception being when Draco knew it was safe outside of the house to allow it to slip. But Harry had enough iciness in his facial expressions and tone well enough for any Malfoy. Included was the ability to completely lock away his emotional side, though he was still in the process of learning.  

Narcissa and Draco were side-teaching him French. He was progressing nicely, so much so that he was able to have full conversations with anyone of the house. His accent, however, made the fluid language sound choppy on his tongue, but he was working his way towards fixing it.

He also learned how important being a pureblood was. With very few exceptions, there was no other human better than a pureblood. Half-blood, muggleborn, squib. None could compare to a pureblood. They were better, stronger, smarter. It was the way things were.

In between his lesson, he read, read, and read some more. It was pretty much all he did, except when Draco managed to pull him away. Otherwise, he was on his broom. A Nimbus two thousand of course, the same as Draco.

The first time Draco convinced him onto a broom, he had been doubtful. Out of all the stereotypical magic things Muggles spouted, broom riding could not have been one of them, he thought. But he was proven wrong. He absolutely loved the feeling of the wind whipping at his face and slicing through his hair and clothes. He loved the way his stomach dropped when he dived, and the way his heart soared when he twisted upwards. And his absolute favorite thing to do?

Chasing the Snitch.

It was an exhilarating rush whenever he spotted the little golden orb and quickly took flight after it. The Snitch was such a sneaky little thing, zipping and zooming every which a way, with a particular keen to heading upwards, towards the sun. Harry loved the challenge of chasing the Snitch. Draco said he was a natural Seeker, which he only found out what a Seeker was later, after he read _Quidditch Through the Ages._

“Harry, Draco; the two of you be good. Am I understood?” Narcissa warned, kissing them both on the forehead and squeezing them together in her arms.

“Yes, mother.” They chorused.

“Write to me every day.”

“Yes, mother.”

“Oh, and make friends.”

“Yes, mother.”

“Eat every day and get at least eight hours of sleep every night.” The one was directed at Harry with a pointed look.

“Yes mother.” Draco arched a brow at Harry’s groan.    

“And—.”

“Cissa.” Lucius said quietly. “Leave them be.”

Narcissa spared a small, helpless look with her husband. “Lucius, they are leaving me.”

“And they will write to you every night and visit when they can.”

“We promise mother.” Draco said, with a firm nod from Harry.

A loud whistle interrupted whatever Narcissa was about to say next and she pursed her lips until it stopped.

“Goodbye, boys.”

“Bye mother, father.” The two hugged their mother again and nodded goodbye to their father.

Falling in step, the boys quickly made their way onto the train and found an empty cabin towards the back. Harry stretched out on one of the benches after shoving away his trunk and Angel’s empty cage. His owl had flown off to Hogwarts ahead of him, as did Draco’s Noir. When Harry settled down, Nox cautiously slid out, flicking his tongue.

Draco arched a brow as he sat down, crossing is legs. Harry grinned in retaliation and gave the blonde a pointed look at his lap. His own ‘forbidden’ pet was slumbering peacefully curled up in his lap. Draco sighed.

“I swear all she does is sleep.” He frowned. “I hope she is not sick.”

Harry sat up. “She is not sick, Draco. Maybe she is just growing or something. You know, now that she has a master and all, her magic has probably increased.”

“Hopefully you are right, brother.”

“Of course I am right.” Harry scoffed. “Who do you take me for, some Muggle?”

Before Draco could respond, the door to their cabin slammed open and two people entered as if it was their cabin. Harry was up immediately, his wand digging into the throat of the nearest one with a murderous expression on his face. Draco inconspicuously slipped the sleeping Snow into his robes.

“Who are you and why are you here?”

The one at wandpoint, a boy their age with dark tan, caramel-like skin and violet eyes, was unfazed. He sighed and turned his disinterested gaze from Harry to Draco. The blonde had stayed in his seat, watching the scene before him with no movement to stop his twin.

“Draco, do you mind getting your friend to stop pointing his wand at me? This is highly uncomfortable.”

“I do mind, actually, Blaise.” Draco said. “I cannot control what my brother does. He has a mind of his own and he does like to use it every once in a while.”

“Brother—?” The girl—a little brunette who could be considered pretty were it not for her flat nose—began, only to be cut off by Harry.

“ ** _Do you know these two, Draco?”_** He growled out.

Draco sighed. “ ** _Yes, they are friends of mine. The one you are threatening is Blaise Zabini and the girl beside him is Pansy Parkinson. I assume they only want to join us, Harry.”_**

“Hmm…” Harry drew back his wand and took a step back. His and Blaise’s eyes locked but before either of them could say anything, Pansy suddenly exploded.  

“Draco, what the hell? Who is this guy, and why are you calling him your brother? You don’t _have_ a brother.”

“On the contrary, Pansy.” Draco began in a calm voice, though his eyes were narrowed with frustration. “Harry is in fact my fraternal twin brother. He was born with a critical illness, therefore St. Mungos kept him under their care in their facilities. It wasn’t until he came into his magical inheritance did he become strong enough to finally leave St. Mungos.”

It was a lie, of course. A fabrication Harry himself came up with as a cover-up for his sudden appearance. Obviously he and Draco refused to hide their newfound relationship as brothers, and so people would naturally ask questions. Not to mention they now looked very much alike. And so came his sob story of being a weak baby unable to do anything until he came into his inheritance.

Pansy seemed to accept it well enough, for she shrugged and pranced over to sit on Harry’s bench. Blaise, however, wasn’t so easily swayed and his eyes stayed suspiciously looked with Harry’s. The raven narrowed his eyes, unwilling to submit to Blaise’s challenge of dominance, even if the dark skinned eleven year old was twice his size.

“For someone who just left St. Mungos, you seem to be pretty well off.”

“I have had a few months to get used to things.”

“Hmph.” Blaise gave Harry a slow once-over before brushing past him to sit beside Pansy.

Harry’s eye narrowed and his jaw clenched. He resisted the urge to whirl around and punch Blaise in the nose, though it was hard. Draco, noticing Harry’s dilemma, reached out to grab his brother’s sleeve.

“Harry.” He said in a soft, soothing tone. The raven immediately relaxed and turned around, sitting next to his twin.

“I am tired.” He put his head on Draco’s shoulder. “Let me sleep a little, Draco.”

“ ** _Lazy git._** ” Draco muttered, but shifted into a position more comfortable for both him and Harry, pulling a thin, slightly worn with use, book from his robes.

The raven hummed. “ ** _Love you too, my dragon._** ”

Draco snorted, but said nothing, opening his book. They were both aware of Blaise and Pansy gaping at them. Well, gaping on Pansy’s behalf; Blaise was simply staring at them with an unreadable expression. Neither of the twins cared, as it was something everyone would have to get used to. In the past few months, Harry had become terribly possessive of Draco, and within that possessiveness came a certain clinginess that Harry developed.

About half an hour later, the door to their cabin opened again. Though the others didn’t notice, Harry quickly unsheathed his wand, not removing his face from its place buried in Draco’s neck. Well, Draco noticed of course, but did not even raise his eyes from his book, though he was listening intently. Everyone else looked up to glare at the intruder.

It was a pretty blonde girl with vibrant blue eyes that flashed murderously. Another first year, already in her uniform robes. She flinched slightly at the looks Blaise and Pansy gave her, but raised her chin defiantly.

“Excuse my intrusion.” Her voice held the superiority of a pureblood, catching Harry’s attention. “But I was ill-fated to sharing a cabin with one of the blood-traitorous and idiotic Weasley’s. I fear that I had been insulted a few too many times to hold my temper, and had to take my leave from the cabin. Alas, I found similar problems, or issues of other sorts, in the other cabins. I must ask if it is too terrible for me to join your cabin?”

Pansy sneered. “As if anyone wants your pompous—.”

“You may join us.” Draco looked up from his book. “Though only if you can handle Pansy’s inane chatter.”

The girl smirked, ignoring Pansy’s glare. “I have a little sister, so inanity is not unfamiliar to me.” She stepped daintily into the cabin and sat on Draco’s other side. “I am Daphne Greengrass.”

“Draco Malfoy.” Draco gestured to his ‘sleeping’ brother. “This is my brother, Harry Malfoy; the boy directly in front of you is Blaise Zabini and the girl beside him is Pansy Parkinson.”

“A pleasure to meet you all.” Daphne said, though she only had eyes for Draco.

Though Draco was not interested in the new girl in the least. He only allowed her inside, instead of letting Pansy go off on her, was because he felt Harry’s interest in Daphne. He knew why too.

Daphne was Harry’s first exposure to another pureblood who acted as refined as the Malfoy’s. Blaise was quiet, uninterested in his surroundings, and acted how he wanted, reputation be damned. Pansy, on the other hand, was a loud, annoying, spoiled pureblood who enjoyed gossiping more than anything in life. Unfortunately, that was how most purebloods were in this day and age; very few families kept to the traditional pureblood upbringing of their children, such as the Malfoy’s, the Greengrass’, or even the Notts.   

Even though his brother did not verbalize it, Draco knew that Harry wanted to observe more of the actions of Miss Daphne Greengrass. Which was why he did not let Pansy force the girl out.

No one noticed when Harry sheathed his wand, but Draco.      

The five settled into a comfortable silence. Harry returned to his slumber on Draco’s shoulder, Draco returned to his book, Daphne crossed her legs and stared out the window, Pansy glared at Daphne, and Blaise leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. Everything was fine until the train was about halfway to Hogwarts.

Once again, the door to the cabin banged open. Harry growled lowly into Draco’s shoulder, barely loud enough for his twin to hear him. Draco looked up from his book to glare icily at the two standing in the doorway.

A girl with bushy brown hair and slightly large front teeth, and a boy who was slightly chubby and had a bad haircut. The boy seemed familiar, and it took Draco a moment to figure out why. The boy had to be Neville Longbottom, younger brother to Chuck. The girl was unfamiliar, though she had a smug look that looked fixed on her face. It was a look that irked Draco, causing Harry to stir as he felt his brother’s irritation.

“Have any of you seen a toad?” The girl said impatiently. “Neville’s lost his.”

Neville nodded slowly. “Me gran’ll kill me if she found out I lost ‘im.”

Harry quickly sat up, his eyes spitting green fire as he glared at the girl. “Of course we have not seen a toad, you stupid girl! Get out of here, your Muggle stench is suffocating me.”

The girl looked affronted. “Excuse me—.”

But Harry was done with her, his eyes now on a slightly cowering Neville. “And you, Longbottom. Put your shoulders back and push out your chest, you coward! Your fear can take you down two different paths, one that makes you weak and the other that makes you strong. It is up to you to decide which to take, though the path to strength is hard and tiring. You are a pureblood, Neville Longbottom, so act like it. Do not mind the negative things others say, because they are beneath you. Heed my words, coward. Now get out before I make you, and believe me, you do not want me to do it.” He finished dangerously.

A fire ignited in Neville’s eyes that hadn’t been there before, and the brunette boy nodded soberly, grabbing the girl’s arm and hauling her from the cabin. Harry huffed and returned to Draco’s shoulder. The blonde arched a brow.

“You were awfully nice to Longbottom.”

Harry grunted. “Only because of Chuck. Had I not recognized those features they share, I surely would have hexed them both. I really wanted to hex the mudblood.”

Draco hummed. “Just do not kill anyone, Harry.

“Un.”

The other three in the cabin gaped at the seemingly oblivious twins. Of course, both Harry and Draco were highly aware of the stares they were receiving, and they did not care in the least. They were not going to change the way they were to please others, who were all beneath them one way or another. If other’s wanted the honor to be in their presence, then it was those other people who would have to make the effort to change.

It was quiet the rest of the way to Hogwarts. At some point, Pansy and Daphne went to the restroom to change into their school robes and the boys took the chance to do the same in the cabin.

By the time they reached Hogwarts, the tension in the room had caused Harry’s mood to sour considerably. Not even Draco seemed to be able to placate the raven, who simply ignored his blonde twin and glared at everything.

Nor could the impressive first sight of Hogwarts managed to lighten his current temper. He snorted when the half-breed oaf directed all the first years to ‘self-moving’ boats, scoffed when the huge castle named of their school came into view, and huffed when Aunt Minerva—he had to remember to refer to her as Professor McGonagall now—led them into the magnificent Great Hall for their sorting.

Harry paid no attention to who was getting sorted where. He stood beside Draco as still as a statue, his face blank but his eyes glinting dangerously at the wizened man sitting at the head table. The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. The man who put Harry with those worthless Muggles.

When Draco’s name was called, however, Harry snapped to attention and gave his brother a subtle, but no less warm, smile of encouragement. The blonde nodded at him before raising his chin, dawning a haughty expression, and swiftly making his way to the stool, of which a very old and worn looking hat. The Sorting Hat.

The hat was barely placed on Draco’s blonde hair when it yelled out, “SLYTHERIN!”, causing a smirk to spread across Draco’s face as he slid gracefully from the stool and strutted towards the politely clapping Slytherin table. Daphne was already there, her eyes betraying her excitement even though her face was cold as Draco approached. And then it was Harry’s turn.

Ignoring the whispers that broke out as soon as his name was called—he could still hear the ‘another Malfoy?’ coming from many anyway—as Harry lifted his chin and began walking forward calmly. To hide his growing irritation, he let out what Draco jokingly called his ‘royal highness aura’ on full blast. The effect was instantaneous; the hall went silent as people stared after his graceful form in awe. He suppressed a smirk as he sat on the stool and allowed the hat to be placed over his head.

 _“Ah, another Malfoy, are you?”_ A sibilant voice said in his head.

Harry simply blinked. “Of course you can speak solely in our minds, that would make a lot of sense.”

The hat chuckled. _“On the contrary, I rarely talk to anyone this way, though I was tempted to speak to your dearest twin. Not even that conniving headmaster knows of this ability of mines. The last time I have deemed someone worthy was many years ago; a boy with a mind very much not unlike your own, whose name was Tom Riddle. Of course, he goes by a different alias now, more commonly known as Lord Voldemort. Coincidentally, he was the one who gave your former self, Mr. Harry Potter, that scar.”_

“Hmm.” Harry’s eyes narrowed. “I would like to meet this Tom Riddle. If he is indeed like me, then I have much I would like to learn from him.”

 _“Another dark lord on our hands, eh?”_ The hat chuckled again. _“You are smart, and you have ambition. That would be great for Ravenclaw, but you have the thirst for power only found in_ SLYTHERIN!” It yelled aloud suddenly, then returned to Harry’s mind. _“Good luck, young, rising Dark Lord.”_

When the hat was removed from his head, Harry was faced with deadly silence and many stares. No doubt about it, he had certainly the longest Sorting in recorded history. Unfazed, Harry simply stepped lightly from the stool and, his expression blank, made his way to the Slytherin table and sat beside Draco. The blonde leaned into him as the Sorting hesitantly continued.

“Your mood has lightened, dearest brother.”

A small, cold smirk slid onto Harry’s face, sending a shiver down Draco’s back. “Indeed it has, my dragon.”

Eventually the Sorting ended with Blaise being Sorted into Slytherin. During that time, Harry allowed his gaze to sweep across the room, taking in the other students. Neville had been Sorted into the Lion’s den, as did the annoying mudblood. With her smug attitude, Harry would have expected to see her in Ravenclaw, but apparently not. Also found at the Gryffindor table had been strange sight; a large amount of redheaded students. Harry inquired Draco about the sight, and received a sneer.

“The Weasleys. A family of blood traitors, they are. Father is a Muggle-loving idiot and their mother is the human equivalent to a troll with Dragon Pox. Useless bunch.”

Harry hummed. His eyes were on the redheaded twins, who both wore devious smirks and were not as loud and exuberant as their peers. As a matter of fact, they came off more as sneaky Slytherins over defiant Gryffindors. He would have to look into that…

Then his gaze continued. Eyes the color of magical acid landed on the head table and suddenly widened as Harry’s scar began to pulse lightly. He eyed the one who seemed to make this occurrence possible.

It was a rather small man wearing a turban, who flinched away from the others and looked as if he was stuttering as he spoke to the headmaster. Harry’s eyes narrowed. He could feel a power far more sinister than what the man seemed to be capable of radiating from the man’s every pore. But Harry knew better than anyone that looks could be deceiving. He himself had changed, becoming a hard-faced boy with an even harder heart, but when needed, he could summon the look of an innocent boy in an instance.  

Suddenly the man looked up and their eyes locked. Dark brown eyes narrowed and flashed brilliant red as the man smirked slightly. Harry raised his chin in a polite nod of which the man returned, his smirk widening. Harry nonchalantly turned away, returned to his venture across the sea of students. The pulsing in his scar stopped immediately.

Yes, appearances could be quite deceiving.

As if on cue, the headmaster stood and began to speak as soon as the stool and Sorting Hat disappeared. Harry promptly tuned him out, not wanting to hear whatever the deceiving old man had to say. His attention was only returned when Draco lightly tapped his shoulder.

“Harry, the food has appeared.”

Harry looked down and frowned at the impressive sight of the spread in front of him and down the table. “I am not hungry.”

“And why not?” Draco frowned.

“I ate before we left for King’s Cross.”

“Harry that was hours ago!”

The boy shrugged. “I am still full.”

Draco sighed, his eyes showing his worry. “Eat something, please. Anything.”

Harry sighed. He couldn’t deny Draco when the blond took that tone, and his brother knew it. “Alright.”

Grumbling under his breath as Draco happily returned to his own meal, Harry reached out a snagged an apple. Feeling his brother’s glare, however, enticed him to also grab a few slices of bread and fill his cup with pumpkin juice. He received a warm leg pressing into his own for his efforts, the only affection he was going to receive from his brother until they were alone, he knew.

Dinner was eventually replaced with desert. Draco managed to convince Harry to eat more with a bribe of treacle tart. He had learned it was the raven’s favorite very quickly, and used it to his advantage. It also helped when he threatened to send mother a letter. They had no doubt Narcissa would mind sending Harry a Howler—in private of course.

Dumbledore rose once again when desert had disappeared. And Harry once again tuned him about. He of course caught a few phrases that he planned to ignore anyway, such as ‘don’t enter the Forbidden Forest’, and ‘stay away from the third corridor’. Well, the latter was coupled with ‘horrible, painful death’ which definitely caught Harry’s attention.

Why would there be something that would cause their death within the school? What was wrong with this man?

Harry was dismayed, and just like that, his mood was once again spoiled. Draco noticed and sent him a concerned look, but Harry simply continued to glare at their basket case of a headmaster.

The man finished with directions to the prefects, and a horrible few minutes of the school song. Everyone rose immediately, eager to leave the Great Hall and go to the dorms. Harry and Draco prepared to join their peers, but was approached by a upper classmen.

“Professor Snape has requested the presence of the two of you. I am to take you to his office.” She said.

Sharing a quick look, the two nodded and followed after the older girl. At first they went in the same direction of the mass of Slytherins who were headed towards the dorms located in the dungeons, but eventually they branched off and went down a separate hall. At the end of said hall, the stopped at the door and the upperclassmen knocked.

“Enter.” Came a smooth voice.

She opened the door and led them straight to Uncle Severus’—again, Harry had to remember to refer to him as Professor Snape—desk. The man was standing at a bookshelf, holding a book between his large hands, but closed it as they approached.

“Ah, my thanks, Miss Billick.” Snape said coolly, his expression carefully stoic. “You may wait outside to take them to the dorms.”

“Yes, Professor.” She turned and quickly left the room.

As the door closed solidly, Snape’s demeanor immediately changed and his gaze softened as he gazed down at the two boys. They also relaxed, their blank masks falling, revealing Harry’s irritation and Draco’s excitement.  

“How are you boys?” Snape said. “My apologies for my lack of visitation during the summer, but I was required to prepare for the new year.”

“Understandable.” Draco said. He glanced over and came to the conclusion that his irked brother was not going to speak. “It has been fine…so far. Harry has already threatened some students, and I believe he wants to kill the headmaster. So far everything had been…unpleasant for him. I, on the other hand, am excited to attend class.”

Snape hummed, his dark eyes on Harry. “Harry? Talk to me, little one.”

Something in Harry snapped and his magic lashed out, causing the flames in the wall torches to flare exceedingly. “Everything is so irritating. The students, the noise, the unneeded flare! And surely that bloody old conniving headmaster!” He huffed.  

“Oh, Harry.” Snape said, his lips pursing. He watched as Draco pulled his twin into a tight embrace. “I would be lying if I said things get better from here on out. But do know that knowledge is the key to your success, to your gain of power, and the path to get that knowledge is a hard one. Think of your life here at Hogwarts as a challenge, and how powerful you will be when you complete it.”

“Un.” Harry pulled away from Draco. “Sorry for yelling, Uncle Severus.”

“Quite alright. Now you two hurry of to bed; you have lessons in the morning.”

“Yes, Uncle Sev’.” The two chorused, waving goodbye as they left the office.

The upperclassman was waiting just outside, and began to walk away without a word. Harry glanced at Draco, and the two hurried to follow after her.  The dorms weren’t too far away, and the entrance was so nondescript that the twins didn’t realize they had arrived until the older girl spoke.

“This is the entrance.” She touched a spot on the wall where there was a very small engraving of a snake in the stone. “To enter, you must touch this mark, and say the password. There are multiple engravings throughout the castle. Inside the dorm is a single engraving; just by touching it will cause the entrance to automatically open to this location, but once you memorize the map of the school, you then can touch it and say a specific place where another engraving is located, causing the entrance to open there. The password is ‘Familia Primum’.”

On cue, the stone began to slide to the side, revealing a short passageway. The upperclassman gestured for them to go in first. The passageway opened into an antechamber like room, the walls transparent and revealing murky water. A school of fish swam by and Harry realized that they were indeed underground and what he was looking at was the lake they had floated on boats across to reach Hogwarts.  

“The dorms are naturally cold because of the lake.” The upperclassman said from behind them. “So the fireplaces are always lit. And there are heating charms in the walls, couches, and your beds. Rest assured, if you were to die down here, it would not be because of the cold.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed at her choice of words. He had no time to dwell on it as she pointed towards an archway.

“That leads to the boy’s dormitories. Breakfast begins at eight, classes at nine.” She turned towards the archway opposite to the one she just pointed out. “Goodnight.”

When she was gone, Harry turned and headed for the archway that would lead for the boy’s dormitories. Draco followed after him, lengthening his stride to match Harry’s fast steps. He had the longer legs, yes, but Harry always walked with a certain powerful purpose that resulted in his pace being faster and causing Draco to be the one that needed to keep up. 

The archway led to a small area in which seven more archways could be found. Over each archway was a silver plaque with curving words—first year, second year, third year, on and so forth. Common sense ruling out the other choice, Harry shared a look with Draco before heading under the arch labeled ‘first year’. They were met with a hallway of doors lining each side.  

Glancing to the side, Harry noticed that the doors also had silver plaques, but with designated names instead of years. Each plaque had three names, indicating whose dorm was whose and who they shared it with. Lips curling at the prospect of having to share a room with someone other than Draco, he began forward, reading the names until he found his one.

As luck would have it, Draco also shared his room. But a third name was not on the plaque under theirs. A letter was attached to the door, and Harry grabbed and opened it, feeling Draco look over his shoulder.  

_Mr. Malfoys,_

_It has come to my understanding that it is quite rather uncomfortable for the two of you to share quarters with others not of your blood due to past circumstances. Fortunately, the number of Slytherin first years did not demand the use of all the dormitories, therefore allowing the only two of you to share a room together. Good luck with classes tomorrow!_

_With regards,_

_Professor Dumbledore_

Harry shuddered when he read the headmaster’s name, immediately crumpling the paper and willing it to catch fire. He released it and watched as the burning ashes fluttered to the ground. Draco let out a disconcerting sound.

“I was still reading.” He complained.

“It was nothing.” Harry shrugged, opening the door. “Just that we have this room to ourselves.”

“Oh good.” Draco swept inside before Harry. Then he stopped and tsked. “How unacceptable.”

Curious, Harry stepped into the room and looked around. It was a rather plain—for pureblood standards anyway—and altogether probably the size of Draco’s room alone. The room was done completely in silver, dark green, and black. It was set up with matching furniture on opposite ends of the room. Harry’s trunk was at the foot the bed to the right, and Draco’s was to the left.

“It is for the best, I guess. Maybe that is why the dorms are sectioned off by years; the rooms get better as we get older.” When Draco continued his whining, Harry snorted, stepping forward to wrap his arms around his brother. He had craved for such contact all day. “My dragon, you have to make the most of the situation. Are you not excited for class tomorrow?”

“Yes, but…” Draco huffed. “How am I to sleep in such…ghastly conditions?”

Harry chuckled. “It is not too bad. Shall we sleep together for the night, however?”

“As if you would have it any other way.” Draco snorted.

“You know me too well.”


	5. Halloween

Hogwarts Herself was something Harry found great interest in. He could feel the love and care She had for Her students, no matter how powerful or weak they were. Her teasing side was also very prominent, which was helpful for him as he could tell whenever She decided to change where a set of stairs went, or lock a door unless you did _something_ that would make them open , or create doors that weren’t truly what they seemed, but something else.

It was also slightly challenging to remember any location of something, if you tried to memorize them by landmark. The portraits liked to move around and visit other ones, and the coats of armor seemed to enjoy taking midnight strolls from one side of Hogwarts to the other.

The ghost didn’t help any, especially the poltergeist, Peeves. He enjoyed throwing things at you, or swooping from the ceiling to give you a fright. But Harry figured out very quickly that, if you were a first year Slytherin, all that you needed to do was threaten Peeves with the Slytherin ghost, the Bloody Baron, and he would leave you alone. He was one of the very few who figured it out so far.

If there was a human who was possibly worse the Peeves, it was the cranky caretaker Argus Filch. It was obvious to everyone that he had something against Slytherins. He would follow them with his nasty beedy eyes, or send his ratty cat, Ms. Norris after them. Do anything out of line, and let her see you do it, and she was off for Filch, who would appear seconds later wheezing and gasping, and eager to give you a detention slip. Filch apparently knew all of the school secret passageways and put them to use in order to ‘capture’ you. Of course, Harry and his Slytherin peers would put a shame to their House if they ever got caught by the man or his cat.

Harry was both disappointed and pleased with his classes. Some immediately provided him with something to do, while others did nothing more than put him to sleep, and a few made him once again question why no one questioned the things Dumbledore did.

Astrology—or Divination, depending on who you asked—was a waste of time. Having to stay up past midnight every Wednesday to stare at the night sky was utter bollucks. Anyone well versed in Divination knew that the only ones who could truly read the stars and the movement of the planets were centaurs and especially gifted Seers. He dubbed the course his ‘nap time’ class.

Herbology was useful, but boring. Harry knew that it was helpful to learn about plants and fungi—not only for Potions, but for future uses such as poison and their antidotes—but what use was a class when the teacher, Professor Sprout, was more concerned about impressing her students with ‘dangerous’ plants? He figured he could learn this on his own.

History of Magic made him want to pound someone’s head in. He had actually been looking forward to this class, but was sorely disappointed. He could easily understand the use of a ghost, Professor Binns, to teach the subject, but not when the teacher’s only focus was on the Goblin Wars, and there was no passion in his teachings. Once again, Harry came to the conclusion that this was another he would have to learn on his own.  

Charms showed promise, though they only began with theory. Harry knew how important theory was, and getting not only the pronunciation of words right, but the movement of your wrist and hand. You could utter an incantation and move your hand, expecting a bouquet of daises to appear in your hand, only to receive a two-ton bull on your head. The Professor, a small elfin wizard by the name of Flitwick, was also very clever; noticing on the first day the nervousness buzzing in his students and proceeding to ‘fall’ behind the stack of books he was standing on with a small squeak, though his posture and stance had been perfect. He succeeded in not only easing the tension in the class, but also setting up an easy relationship with his students by coming off as easy-going and excited.

Transfiguration gave him his first challenge. Not only was it the first class the Slytherins shared with the pigheaded Gryffindors, but Professor McGonagall was a formidable, strict teacher. She radiated an aura of no nonsense, and cut straight to the chase.

“Transfiguration is one of the most complex and dangerous magicks you will learn in Hogwarts.” She said on the first day. “Anyone who messes around in my class will leave and never come back. You have been warned.”

Then she proceeded to change her desk into a pig and back. It easily caught everyone’s attention and excitement buzzed in the room. Only to be dispelled as she first had them take very complex and extensive noted, then handed out matches and told everyone that they were to turn it into a needle; their first grade in the class. 

Harry at first thought it would be easy, as he had already read multiple books from cover to cover, twice, and understood what he was to do in theory. But when he pointed his wand and uttered the words, he was disappointed to find that nothing happened. He frowned and glanced around the class, finding everyone else in the same predicament. Beside him, Draco huffed and muttered a curse under his breath.

He turned back to his match, putting his wand down and concentrating on what he should do in order to make the transfiguration successful. In theory, he should have a needle instead of a match. But he didn’t. The question was, why?

Closing his eyes, Harry pulled up all he could remember from the books he read about transfiguration. Anything at all that would help him turn the match into a needle. Then his eyes flashed open and a grin made the corners of his mouth twitch. Of course! He wanted to slap himself on the forehead. Why didn’t he realize it earlier?

Picking up his wand again, Harry pointed at the match and uttered the required words. Then smirked as the match shimmered into a needle. It was so simple and easy that it wasn’t too hard to look over.

“Harry?” Draco touched his elbow. “How did you manage to change it?”

Harry smirked. “It is all about _intent,_ Draco. If you want it, will it, give it purpose, then it shall happen.”

Draco’s eyes widened with realization, and the blonde quickly turned back to his match. A moment later, and another needle was on their table.

“Wonderful job, you two.” They turned to see Professor McGonagall standing behind them, a smile lighting her eyes. “Very rarely does a student manage it so quickly, let alone two. Ten points to Slytherin, each.”

By the end of class, both Harry and Draco successfully transfigured their matches into needles and back, even going as far as to change the shape of the needle and add designs to it. _Visualization_ was a key to that one, Harry concluded.

The only other student who managed to turn her match into a needle was one Hermione Granger, who was coincidentally the mudblood Harry had so viciously snapped at on Hogwarts Express. Unlike he and Draco, who had been awarded another ten points each for such intricately designed needles, she had simply gotten a tight smile. Harry smirked, as it was all the mudblood deserved.

Defense Against the Dark Arts proved to be rather interesting. Their Professor was the man whom was not as he seemed to Harry, whose name was Professor Quirrell. In front of the other students, he was a stuttering, bumbling fool, but when his gaze met Harry’s for the second time, he smirked as his eyes once again flashed red. Harry abruptly felt the urge to… _challenge_ the man, but held it in until towards the end of class, where he raised his hand.

“Professor, I have a question.”

“Y-yes-s, M-m-m-Mr. Malf-f-f-f-f-oy?” This time, the eyes did not flash red. Yet.

“Why is this class called _Defense_ Against the Dark Arts?”

This being the second class Slytherin shared with Gryffindor, it was no surprise when the other side of the room burst into mocking laughter. Draco shot him a questioning look, along with the other Slytherins, but Harry kept his eyes locked on Quirrell.

And was rewarded when the man’s eyes flashed red.

“Could you elaborate on your question, Mr. Malfoy?”

Obviously no one else had noticed it, but Harry’s eyes widened as the Professors voice seemed to change. The stutter was gone, and the voice was deeper, smoother. Darker.

Harry raised his chin. “I do not understand why this class is called Defense Against the Dark Arts. I have read multiple books on the subject past the one required for this course, and I have found unsatisfactory results. As I am sure everyone in here should know, in order to _defend_ against something, then you must first _know_ what is you are defending against. A person well-versed in the Dark Arts would better know what spells to use to go against a Dark Spell, as opposed to someone who only knows it in theory.

And another thing, who determines what the Dark Arts are and what spells should be classified as Dark? If it is based off of how harmful a spell is, then pretty much any and every spell can be classified as Dark, right? We are soon to learn how to cast a Wingardium Leviosa in Charms, a simple levitation spell, yes? But should some cast a Wingardium Leviosa Maxima on, say, another person, and release it after the person is far enough in the air, then can they not do the same damage as these so called ‘Dark’ spells? And therefore technically this class is illegal, as learning Dark Arts is banned and to teach us to defend against it would require for us to be _taught_ Dark Arts.”

By that point, no one was laughing. Draco was smirking smugly, and the rest of the Slytherins were nodding with curious expression on their faces as they glanced at Quirrell. The man himself was staring at Harry unblinkingly with a blank expression. Harry’s scar pulsed lightly and he raised a hand to rub his forehead. That seemed to snap Quirrell out of whatever trance he had been in, and he cleared his throat.

“Dark Arts and anything that falls under its jurisdiction is determined by the Ministry.” He said smoothly. “I am sorry, but I do not know why this class is called Defense Against the Dark Arts. You are correct when you say that in order to learn to defend against the Dark Arts, it is best to learn such first. However, the subject of Dark Arts is a very complex topic of discussion, and people avoid it very avidly.”

“Because the Dark Arts and those who use it are evil!” A redheaded Gryffindor snapped.

Harry’s narrowed. He’d had just about enough of Ronald Weasley’s stupidity throughout the day. “Weasley, I suggest you shut your mouth before I do it for you. And believe me,” Harry grinned, a sadistic twist at the corners. “You do not want me to do it.”

Weasley wisely kept his mouth shut. Harry relaxed into his chair and sighed.

“I believe I am very disappointed.”

“And why is that?” Harry looked up to find the Professors gaze on him.

“Well, by the pure….idiocy of the entire system. Fear of the unknown cause humans to lash out, which in turn causes separation and destruction. The Ministry is comprised of nothing but humans, and apparently they chose to follow their own natures instead of using their head and actually thinking about things. I cannot believe this. I was under the belief that the Dark Arts was something involving ones magical core, or even their personalities. To find out that it is only determined by a group of bigoted idiots who wouldn’t know a true Dark curse if it was being cast on them…” Harry shook his head and sighed. This was reminding him terribly of the Dursleys and their fear of anything different.

Quirrell stared at him for a moment. “Hmm, very interesting view on such things, Mr. Malfoy. Unfortunately, we must discuss them at another time, as class is now dismissed.”

A tolling bell rang, signaling the end of class, and everyone jumped. Harry maintained eye contact with the Professor for a moment longer, before packing his bags and following after Draco from the room.

He found Potions most enjoyable. Though it was the third class consecutively the Slytherins shared with Gryffindors, it was worth it to see Professor Snape put all of them in their place.  

“Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley, for talking in my class.” Professor Snape said smoothly. “Tsk, tsk. In the negatives already? Such a shame.”

Harry and Draco shared the desk next to the one Weasley and the mudblood Granger, and so therefore got a full view of Weasley’s bright red face twisted in an ugly expression. The twins shared a look before continuing with the own potion. They were doing a simple potion to cure boils—so easy a blind monkey could do it, according to their Potions Master.

A few moments of peace passed, until clouds of acid green smoke rose and a loud hissing noise filled the air. A few tables over, Neville had managed to melt his and the Finnagan boy’s cauldron; their potion seeping to the floor and burning holes in peoples shoes. Within seconds everyone was standing on their stools. Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when it exploded, moaned in pain as huge, angry red boils began to appear all over his skin.

“Idiot boy!” Snape snarled, banishing the potion with a wave of his wand. “You added the porcupine quills before taking the potion off of the fire, did you not?” 

Neville only whimpered.

“Take him to the hospital wing.” Snape snapped to Finnagan, who was quick to do so. “And what are you all doing?! Continue with your potions!”

By the end of class, Harry and Draco had produced a perfect potion. They handed it over to Snape with identical smirks, noting that very few of their peers managed to procure a potion of the same quality. The professor merely arched a brow at them with a murmured ‘acceptable’, which in Snape language practically meant ‘this potion is great’. 

The flying lesson they took were bust. Harry had been excited for the class, as he loved nothing more than to be on a broom, but he was once again disappointed. The brooms, for one, were all very old model Cleansweepers, with bent and broken twigs that could barely fly. Besides that, they were only allowed to _float_ a couple of feet off the ground. Harry could sleep comfortably on a floating broom from any height. Though he figured the reasons behind it were very much needed after witnessing Neville lose control of his broom and fall of, breaking his arm in the process.

Care of Magical Creatures was a joke. It was taught by the half-giant, Hagrid, who was under the belief that any creature—no matter how benign or dangerous—was cute and cuddly. Something that he was apparently trying to instill into the students. Harry figured that if he ever found interest in the subject, he would consult a book.

It wasn’t until a full month had passed that something happened. Halloween was coming up, and the halls were abuzz. Apparently, there was going to be a Halloween ball for all students who wanted to go. Draco was ecstatic, but Harry could care less. He knew, however, that his twin was going to find some way to convince him to go.  

A few days before the ball, Draco made his move.

“Harry.” The blonde pounced his darker-haired counterpart in their rooms. “You are coming to the ball, are you not?”

“No.” Harry denied immediately.

Draco pouted. “And why not?”

“Because, brother dearest, I hate dancing, and I hate being around so many people.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Whyyyy?” Draco whined.

Harry frowned. “I just told you why.”

“So you would go if you did not have to dance and you were not crowded around people?”

“Well…”

“Great!” Draco beamed at him. “I cannot go with you because I am going with Daphne, so you are going to go with Blaise, okay? Goodnight, brother.”

Draco bounced off, leaving a dumbfounded Harry behind.

~oOo~

“Severus.” A silky smooth voice called, red eyes glinting from the fire roaring a few feet away.

The raven, whose hair was lank and greasy from exposure of so many potion fumes, bowed his head in respect. “Yes, my lord?”

“Have you located it?”

“Yes my lord.” Severus confirmed. “There is a…beast protecting it, but it is easily defeated.”

“Good.” The man hissed. “Now, we need a…distraction.”

“I shall take care of it, my lord.”

“No.” His lips curled cruelly. “I will do it myself. This should be…amusing.”

~oOo~

The next day, Harry cornered Blaise in the library. Every day after lunch and before classes began, the darker skinned male could be found there, holed up in some obscure corner reading a book. Harry only knew this because he did the same, and once stumbled upon Blaise when trying to find somewhere isolated to do his reading.

“For the record, I had no say in anything.” Blaise began as soon as Harry appeared in front of him, not even looking up from his book as he flicked through the pages.

“You could have done _something._ ” Harry hissed.

Blaise paused, finally looking up from his book with an arched brow. “If _you_ could not do anything, what makes you think _I_ had any chance?”

Harry gritted his teeth. “What do we do now?”

“The only thing we can do.” Blaise shrugged. “We go to the ball in two days.”

“But I do not want to go.” Harry bit his lip and scrunched his brow, too distressed at the moment to keep up his stoic mask.

“Do you really want to face Draco’s wrath? Especially when he is _this_ excited?”

“I see your point.” Harry deflated, finally calming down and sitting beside Blaise.

“It will be fine.” Blaise smiled down at him charmingly. “I mean, you will be with _me.”_

Harry felt his heart suddenly thump against his ribs, but he ignored it to snort at Blaise. “I think you are just a bit too narcissistic.”

“Guilty as charged.”

After that, Harry found himself on much better terms with Blaise than before. He would not say that they were friends, but they were certainly past that awkward stage of when they tried to avoid each other without making it _look_ like they were doing so. Which was a little more than hard, as Blaise was Draco’s friend, and if there was anything the blonde liked to do, it was to surround himself with his friends. Now that they were on more amicable terms, both Harry and Blaise noticed that there was certain lack of tension when they were near each other.

Neither of them, however, noticed Draco’s smirk.

In the two days left leading up to the ball, Harry was very tense and therefore in quite a bad mood. He kept up with his work and made no disruptions in class, so the teachers did not quite notice—with the exception of Quirrell, who sent him continuous curious glances—but inside the dorms, everyone took careful measures as to not piss him off. The last guy who did so was still in the hospital wing.  

Even his familiars were restless. Angel got into a fight with one of the school’s barn owls, and a silencing charm had to be placed on Nox because the inky black snake was hissing in irritation all day long. Harry realized the anger stemmed from him, and took the time to meditate and calm down, much to the relief of his House.

And then it was the day of the ball. Classes were let out early so that everyone could get ready, and the Great Hall could be prepared. To Harry’s ire, Draco took full use of the extra time they had.

“Draco, there is no reason for me to use special shampoo. My hair is fine.”

“Yes, but this will make it extra shiny and soft.”

“But I will smell like a girl.”

“A girl with shiny, soft hair.”

Neither of them were ready to go until literally minutes before the ball was to begin. Harry’d been primped, pampered, scrubbed, scoured, threatened, and everything in between. He felt like a doll.

As promised, his hair was soft and shiny. He hadn’t cut it, so now it fell past his shoulders to end somewhere between his shoulder blades. Draco had used clips to pin certain strands back, leaving his bangs to fall into his eyes with the rest left to tumble down his back. He wore soft, form-fitting robes in dark forest green that brought out the green in his eyes, the black trimming and inner cloth making his skin seem paler than usual.

Beside him, Draco looked as pristine and proper as always. His own blonde hair was slicked back, save his bangs which swept across his forehead, and pulled into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck. It wasn’t as long as Harry’s, but was still a considerable length. He wore black robes that practically made his skin glow bright as the moon; the pale silver inner cloth and trimming making his eyes especially intense and piercing.

The Twins were dressed immaculately and caught the gazes everyone still in the common room. Including Blaise and Daphne. The dark skinned first year was dressed in indigo robes that complimented his skin and eyes well, and the pale girl wore silvery-white robes that…didn’t actually go to well with her already very complexion and light hair.

From his peripheral, Harry noticed Draco scrunch his nose delicately. Now that he thought about it, he never saw his paler counterpart in too many clothes that were pastel or in lighter shades. And whenever Draco did wear such colors, it was always in small increments. He figured it was because Draco didn’t like to wear too many light colors, but now looking at Daphne, whose hair and skin were not nearly as pale as Draco’s and still came off as too…bright, he realized it was because wearing too much was just…really unflattering.

But Draco wasn’t a Malfoy for nothing. He glided over with a small smile to kiss Daphne’s hand.

“You look wonderful, Daphne.”

Daphne blushed and giggled. “Oh, stop it, Draco.”

Harry walked at a much slower pace until he stopped in front of Blaise. The tall Italian arched a brow at him.

“Do you want me to kiss your hand, too—?”

“Touch me and I will hex your bollucks straight off.” 

Blaise smirked. “Now, now Harry. You have to be a good boy and at least pretend to be happy.”

“Shove off.”

“Harry!” Draco snapped.

Harry scowled and grumbled, but acquiesced to a still smirking Blaise’s request as Draco’s icy glare. The brunette took Harry’s hand, sweeping down into an exaggerated bow as he kissed it. Harry glared and snatched his hand back.

**_“Idiotic, narcissistic git.”_ **

“Cursing me in French is very unbecoming, Harry.” Blaise sing-songed.

It took all the control in Harry’s body to keep him from hexing Blaise straight to the hospital wing. Once he calmed down, however, he put his hand in the crook of Blaise’s bent arm at Draco’s urging, Daphne doing the same with the blonde.

The moment they stepped into the Great Hall, Harry regretted with every fiber in being that he did not deny Draco more vehemently.

There were people _everywhere._ The long tables designated to each House were gone, replaced with small, circular tables that were spread across the Hall. The center of the room was cleared, open for students and teachers alike to dance.  A thousand _live_ bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling, a thousand _more_ swooping around the area, making girls scream in surprise and fear. Carved pumpkins floated around, candles guttering inside. Haunting chamber music thrummed in the air.

Harry wanted to leave already.

Draco, on the other hand, smiled and dragged Daphne off to dance. Harry looked up at Blaise, who in turn looked down at him with an arched brow.

“Shall we dance?”

“I do not dance, Blaise.”  

Blaise started to drag him to the floor anyway. “There is a first for everything.”

Harry resisted. “No—Blaise, I _really_ do not dance.”

“How bad can you be?” Blaise smiled at Harry over his shoulder. “I will guide you, okay?”

“It is your toes.” Harry shrugged.

The dark skinned male smirked, putting his hands on Harry’s waist. The raven sighed, but put his hands on Blaise’s shoulders. They began to move and almost immediately, Harry slipped and stepped on Blaise’s toes. He winced and looked up at Blaise, who held in his own wince and smiled reassuringly at Harry. For all his grace and poise, Harry was as clumsy as a blind cat.

At moment later, Harry did it again. And so it continued.

Many times, Draco and Daphne whirled past them, the two blondes looking effortless with their steps. Harry envied his brother. Though Draco tried many times to teach him how to dance, Harry could never get the steps right. He just had no rhythm to speak of.

Finally, the song ended and Harry dragged Blaise from the dance floor to collapse at a table in relief. He glanced at his partner of the night. Blaise did well to hide his pain every time Harry stepped on his toes, but the raven wasn’t so easily fooled. He noticed the small limp in Blaise’s usually smooth stride when they walked to the table, and the way he sat to ease the pressure on his feet.

“Are you…okay, Blaise?” Harry asked uncomfortably.

Blaise grinned at him. “Is the usually stoic and ‘I-could-care-less’ attitude having, Ice Prince Harry Malfoy worried about my well-being?”

Harry glared and looked away. “Not anymore I am not.”  

“Aw, do not be like that, Harry.”

The raven chose not to respond, his gaze flicking across the room. Hmm, interesting…both Quirrell and Snape were missing. He vaguely wondered why, before his thoughts were suddenly scattered as a shudder went down his spine. He whirled around to glare at Blaise, who’d just blown in his ear.

“Do. Not. Do that. Again.”

Blaise shrugged with a devil-may-care grin. “I had to get your attention somehow.”

Harry growled and had just pulled out his wand to hex Blaise when Draco and Daphne collapsed into the chairs beside him, effectively capturing his attention.

“Oh, that was fun.” Draco gasped out, panting lightly.

“Mm hmm.” Daphne agreed breathlessly.

At that moment, the doors to the Great Hall banged open, loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. A very flustered Quirrell ran inside, his eyes wide and terrified.

“Troll—in the dungeons—thought you ought to know.” He panted out before fainting.

Before his body even hit the ground, pandemonium broke out. Girls screamed and boys shouted, everyone running around. Dumbledore stood and pointed his wand at his throat.

“SILENCE!” He yelled, voice amplified with magic. Everyone froze and looked up at him with wide eyes. “Now that I have your attention—prefects, please lead your Houses to the dorms. No one is to leave the dorms for any reason.”

The prefects took action immediately, calling out to their Houses to group together before leading them out of the Great Hall. Harry was the only one to notice the disappearance of Quirrell’s body. His eyes narrowed, and he tapped Draco.

“Where did Quirrell go?”

Draco looked over to where Quirrell had fainted, then shrugged. “One of the professors must have taken him to Madam Pomfrey.”

“But all of the professors were near Dumbledore.”

“Maybe he woke up.”

Or maybe he had not fainted in the first place. Harry kept the thought to himself.

“Either way does not matter, the ball is over.” Draco pouted lightly. “I bet you are happy, Harry.”

“Un.” Harry said absently, his thoughts on his two missing professors.

The next morning, they found out that the troll had destroyed the girls’ bathroom and the mudblood Hermione Granger had been injured. Apparently, she had been in there crying because of some comment made by the Weasley idiot when the troll went in. She managed to incapacitate it, but ended up hit by the troll’s swinging club when it got angry and started rampaging. The professors got there in time before the troll could kill her and managed to stop the beast.

There was another rumor that someone had been seen going into the forbidden corridor while this was happening. Very few believed it, but Harry grew suspicious when he saw Quirrell’s smug grin during class.

* * *

GUYS, COMMENT, PLEASE!!!

 


	6. Christmas Hols

Winter came quickly, and with it came a break from school, and Christmas.

Harry had never been very fond of Christmas. Usually, he received some more of Dudley’s hand-me-downs, while his fat, spoiled cousin received hundreds of dollars worth of toys and electronics of which he usually broke within the month.

But he didn’t live with the Dursley’s anymore. He was a Malfoy now.

It was still hard, however, to get him excited about the holiday. Carrying such animosity for the day for so long turned into a habitual mood for him. He was excited to return home, but was otherwise uncaring.

On the train he slept, head pillowed on Draco’s lap and feet propped up on Blaise’ lap. The former was reading a book and the latter was looking out the window, arms folded to his chest. Pansy and Daphne sat on the other bench, quietly gossiping together. The two found their friendship when the learned of each other’s love for gossip and rumors. And also their mutual ‘love’—insert obsession—for Draco. 

When they arrived at Platform 9 ¾, Harry woke up immediately. Those in cabin wondered if he as ever really asleep, then figured he had to have been, because at one point he had been snoring lightly, almost like a soft purr.   

Once they departed from the train, the Twins left the others with promises to visit during the holidays trailing after them. Identifying their parents in the crowd was easy; not only was Lucius a very tall man with blindingly bright hair, but also the rush of people tended to circle around him and Narcissa as if the couple were surrounded by a force field. It was Narcissa who noticed them approaching, greeting them with a dainty wave of her hand, eye shining happily.

“My boys.” The beautiful woman greeted. “How are you?”

“Harry made a friend.” Draco smirked.

Harry glared at him. “Blaise is far from being my friend. He is an insufferable, annoying pest.”

“Zabini?” Lucius said with an arched brow. “Is he not your friend, Draco?”

“He is.” Draco shrugged nonchalantly, pausing as the apparated directly into one of the many parlors of Malfoy Manor. “But at the moment he is far more interested in bothering Harry. Harry has already put him in the infirmary once.”

“Harry!” Narcissa scolded.

“He caught me by surprise!” Harry countered, with a glare at Draco.

Narcissa didn’t let him. “No matter, it is not proper to put a friend of yours in the hospital wing.”

Draco’s smirked widened. “I personally think Blaise is pining after Harry.”

“He is not! Shut up, Draco!” Harry growled, though his cheeks flushed.

Lucius intercepted, his eyes narrowing. “Is that so? Maybe I need to speak to Mr. Zabini. I am sure he plans to visit quite soon, Draco?”

The younger blonde’s eyes widened. “I—I did not mean it like that, father. I was…joking. Blaise does not really like Harry. Not in that way.”

“Hmm.” Lucius left the parlor with an urgent swish of his robes. “I shall contact Severus and find out his opinion on this matter.”

“F-father, wait!” Draco chased after the man, leaving Harry alone with Narcissa.

The young raven sighed. “That idiot.”

Narcissa giggled. “Oh, Harry. What mess have you already gotten into already?”

Harry looked up in surprise. “You really want to know?”

“Of course I do, dear.” Narcissa ran a hand through his hair. “How about we discuss this over a cup of tea and biscuits?”

And so began their holiday.

As promised, Blaise did visit, quite often actually. Lucius was rather over protective of Harry at first, not wanting him to be near Blaise too much—he did indeed contact Severus to find that the man agreed with Draco—but as Blaise continued to visit and didn’t act very untoward to Harry, he began to let up.

Pansy and Daphne—always together—also came and visited, almost as often as Blaise. It were the days when the three happened to visit nearly at the exact same time that Harry tried to avoid the most. While Draco was too busy pawing Pansy and Daphne off of him, Harry was left to deal with Blaise, who’d become more bold without Lucius hawking his every movement, as his twin could not distract that darker skinned eleven year old. 

“Harryyy~.” Blaise whined.

He, Harry, Draco, Pansy, and Daphne were all currently in the library together. They were supposed to be working on the homework together. Harry was the only one even attempting to attack the piles of work they received. Pansy and Daphne had grown bored quickly, choosing instead to coo over Draco, who at first ignored it and tried to do his work, but was forced to when Daphne settled herself in his lap with a whine.

Blaise tried to follow the girls’ suit and was still trying to distract Harry from his work. But the raven was far more tenacious than his twin, and was diligently ignoring the darker skinned boy.

“Hey, Harry, you want to play Capture the Snitch?” Blaise tried as a last resort, knowing of Harry’s deep passion for Quidditch.

But instead, he received a reaction the no one—not even Harry—was expecting. The raven froze, a cold ball of dread filling his stomach. His hand spasmed around the quill he was holding, causing the fragile feather to break, ink spilling all over his hand and paper. Not that Harry noticed. His pupils were dilated and his eyes were glazed over as his mind was locked in a past memory.

_“Hey, Harry, you want to play Kick the Freak?” Dudley called, his friend Piers and a few other of his cronies smirking at him._

_“N-no, Dudley. I have to finish my chores.” Harry respond, his body shaking with tremors as he tried to ignore the piercing gazes on his back._

_He continued to pull the weeds out of the garden, even though his hands were already raw and bleeding since Vernon took away the gloves Petunia had given him. ‘A freak didn’t deserve such luxuries’ the man had said. And so Harry went into the garden gloveless. That was hours ago and he still wasn’t finished, with at least half the yard still left. If he didn’t finish it by the night, he wouldn’t get any dinner and he’d have to continue until he was done, without any type of rest._

_“You can do those later.” Harry gasped as he was yanked and thrown away from the garden by Dudley. “Right now, start running.”_

“—arry? Harry?!”

Harry jerked away as he was snatched out of his memories. His body twanged with ghost pains, causing him to wince and grab his side, where his ribs had been broken during that particular occasion when Vernon had kicked him even after Dudley and his friends had bruised and weakened the same area.    

“Harry?”

He looked up, straight into concerned, grey-blue eyes. Draco. Pansy and Daphne were to one side, looking on with worry. Blaise was too the other side, looking freaked out and apologetic. Harry’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment, and his eyes began to burn with tears. He shot up and ran from the room, ignoring the calls behind him.

Running without paying attention could cause many issues, which resulted in Harry crashing into something firm and nearly falling to the ground. Arms caught him, however, and lifted him into the familiar embrace of Lucius. He curled into the man’s chest, burying his head into his father’s neck.

“Harry?”

“I’m sorry.” Harry sobbed, his distress causing him to revert back to the crude, harshly accented way he used to speak.

The arms tightened around him. “What happened, Harry?”

“Nothin’.”

“Harr—.”

“Harry!” Draco, Blaise, Pansy, and Daphne rushed towards them, causing Lucius to arch a brow.

“Do any of you care to tell me what has happened?”

After a moment of hesitation, Blaise stepped forward with his head bowed. “I think it was a little bit my fault, sir. I was trying to get Harry’s attention, so I asked him if he wanted to play Capture the Snitch. But he froze up and started hyperventilating. And he broke his quill.”

“Yeah.” Draco agreed. “It was like he was…like he was not with us anymore. We could not get his attention for a long time, and when we finally did, he ran off.”

“Hmm.” Lucius frowned. “I believe that somehow, your question Mr. Zabini, caused a trigger memory in Harry’s mind. He was locked in a traumatizing memory of his past.”

As if in agreement, Harry shuddered harshly. Everyone’s attention turned to him. Draco frowned.

“Father, maybe we should tell them the truth? Just to keep something like this from happening again?”

“The truth?” The other three looked at Draco.

Lucius sighed. “I believe you are right, Draco. Shall we all return to the library?”

Inside the library, Lucius managed to convince Harry to let go off him. In turn, Harry clung to Draco, using his slightly smaller size to his advantage as he curled up in his twin’s lap, arms tight around the blonde’s neck.

Blaise, Pansy, and Daphne all sat around them, with Lucius standing in front of all the first year students, his eyes on the shivering Harry.

“On the night of Harry’s birthday…” The blonde man began.

By the time he finished, the three students were completely flabbergasted. Harry was still in Draco’s arms, and no one knew if he was asleep or awake, as he made no movement or sound. The library was quiet, the silence loud after Lucius’ voice filling the room for so long. The man summoned a house elf for a glass of water, drinking it quickly to relieve his parched throat.

It was Blaise was the first to speak. “So…Harry is in fact the Boy Who Lived?”

“That is correct, Blaise.”

“I always wondered what happened to him.” Daphne spoke next. “There were rumors that he was supposed to go to Hogwarts, and everyone was disappointed that he never showed up. Well, technically he did. Just not as Harry Potter.”

Blaise glanced over at Draco. “And the two of you are…what did you call it?”

“Soul Mirror Twins.” Harry spoke up quietly, shocking everyone.

Draco looked down at his brother, who had yet to lift his head. “Harry?”

“It pretty much means that even if we weren’ born as twins, our souls were already together like that.” Harry continued, his accent still in play. Either he noticed and didn’t care, or he was so tired that it slipped out.

“Soul Mirror Twins are supposed to be rare, are they not?” Pansy said.

“Yeah.” Harry finally lifted his head. His eyes were red and swollen. “You guys don’ care that I was…yanno…”

“Beaten? Mistreated?” Blaise said bluntly. “Of course we do not, Harry. It is practically expected of those barbaric, brainless Muggles. Though I am angry that it happened to you, I am looking on the bright side of things. If it never happened, then Professors Snape and McGonagall would have never found you, you would have never become a Malfoy, and we would not have become friends.”

“We are _not_ friends, Blaise Zabini.” Harry snapped, a little of his usual self showing as he glared at Blaise. “You are an annoying, narcissistic, self-centered, egotistic—.”

“Harry!” Lucius scolded.

The raven flinched. “Sorry.”

Blaise smirked at him.

After that, Harry slowly returned to normal. Narcissa had been told what happened, and was worried when she noticed Harry not eating much and spending most of his time in his room, almost exactly like how he did when he first joined the family. The difference this was that Blaise, whenever he came to visit—which was nearly every day—would barge into Harry’s room and would coax—insert annoy—Harry until the raven was yelling and acting like his normal self.     

Ask anyone and they would tell you that it was probably Blaise who managed to return Harry to normal. The dark skinned youth took the highest risk to ignite the hot-headed raven’s anger, resulting in Harry becoming more comfortable with himself and the others as things seemed normal when he was yelling and throwing hexes at Blaise while Draco, Pansy, and Daphne laughed. 

It took Harry nearly a week to return to normal, the day before Christmas Eve being the one where he was comfortably in the presence of everyone else, and not locked up in his room, without Blaise’s ‘coaxing’. He was glad he did his Christmas shopping early, as he would have been freaking out if he had to go out and do last minute Christmas shopping two days before the holiday itself.

Then he woke up Christmas morning to Draco yelling at him to get up so that they could open their presents. When Harry resisted and curled up, Draco yanked away his blankets and jumped on top of him.

“Okay, okay. I am up now. Thank you Draco.”

“You are most welcome, Harry.” The blonde smirked, dragging him from the room.

The two proceeded to enter their parent’s room and rouse them from their bed, much like in the manner Draco did to get Harry up. 

“Mum! Dad! Up! It’s Christmas!” The two jumped on top of the lumps on the bed.

Lucius groaned as the breath whooshed out of his lungs. “Boys…”

“Father?” Harry said, prodding his father’s cheek with an innocent expression. “Please get up. It is Christmas.”

Unable to resist Harry’s puppy dog eyes, Lucius groaned once again and sat up, making the raven slide into his lap. Not that Harry minded, as he simply curled into Lucius’ lap, looking up at the blonde with wide eyes as his twin attempt to get their mother awake. Lucius glanced at Draco’s seemingly futile efforts and smirked.

“Cissa, get up. Draco is having a fit.”

“I am not!” Said blonde huffed indignantly.

A giggle rose from the pile of blankets that contained their mother. The pile moved a bit, and shifted to reveal a slightly disheveled Narcissa as she sat up, yawing delicately.

“Boys, good morning.”

“Morning mum.” The two chorused diligently.

Narcissa glanced at Lucius with a warm smile. “Good morning, **_mon amour_**.”

“A good morning it is, **_mon trésor.”_** Lucius leaned forward and kissed his wife on the lips.

Both Harry and Draco made disgusted faces at each other. “Ew.”

Christmas itself went wonderfully. Once Lucius and Narcissa finally got out of the bed, the Malfoy family at breakfast together before the boys were finally released to open their presents. The two were not disappointed.

Harry was ecstatic. From his brother, he received multiple books he’d recently been complaining about not having. From Narcissa, a wonderful set of ribbons of a variety of colors, designs, and materials, and a book for proper hair care—she obviously knew he wanted to grow his hair a bit more. From Lucius he received what he was sure were his favorite gifts. A Nimbus two thousand and one—those weren’t even _out_ yet—the latest broom care kit, and a leather bound journal that was spelled to open only for him. From Blaise he received a whole platter of treacle tart and the largest bar of dark chocolate fudge he’d ever seen—both were under conservation charms so they wouldn’t melt or spoil—which were both of his favorite treats. Daphne sent him a beautiful forest green cashmere scarf that had the barest of silver thread glinting in it. And Pansy sent him a charm in a box—courtesy of Zonko’s of course—that turned him into half a cat for a good deal of the morning.

The gifts he received were all obviously well thought out, and he thought he had done fairly well for the gifts he gave.

To Draco—who’d also received a Nimbus two thousand from their father dearest—he gave a beautiful crystal dragon that became animated for a minute when you touched it with your wand. To Narcissa, he gave a gorgeous bracelet of twisted silver that had small pieces of sapphire within it, and a bouquet of narcissi and, yellow and white orchids. Lucius was the hardest to shop for and therefore Harry decided that what he gave the man who became his father would be a bit more personal—a detail letter explaining how grateful he was of Lucius for taking him in and how wonderful life was for him now, and how he would want nothing more or less. To Blaise he sent a rare book of languages he’d found hidden in the recesses of Chuck’s bookstore, one in particular that had a charm placed on it so that it would help Blaise learn other languages better. To Daphne he sent a perfume that he thought suited her well. And to Pansy, he sent an equally humorous joke box, one that would make her hair turn bright pink. The color she hated the most.

And then Christmas was over, and so was New Years, and next thing Harry knew, he and Draco were boarding the train to return to Hogwarts. Harry was nervous; Blaise, Pansy, and Daphne had seen a side of him he only showed to his family. Given, it did bring them a lot closer, to the point where he could really start counting them as friends. Especially Blaise, who was slowly becoming less of Draco’s friend and more of Harry’s. Harry didn’t deny that gratitude he felt for Blaise, for the darker skinned eleven year old being the one to pull him out of his depression, and he also couldn’t deny the bond that formed between them because of that.

But he was still nervous. He didn’t want them to treat him any different from usual. He didn’t want them to be on the tippy-toes with him all the time. If he was beginning to think them as friends, then he wanted to be able to treat them as friends. Not like…as if they were just doing it out of obligation for ‘poor ole Harry’. Draco treated him like normal because the blonde knew what he was feeling; he simply _knew_ whether or not Harry could take something. But the others didn’t have that capability.

If Harry had to, however, he would reassure that he was just as scary and deadly ad he was the first time they met on the train. And if that broke the tentative friendship they were all building together…then so be it.

Draco had to nearly drag him to ‘their’ compartment, and snapped at him to compose his self before they entered. He acquiesced to his brother’s wants, through it proved futile as it turned out no one was there yet. Harry took the opportunity, dragging Draco to the bench and sprawling out across his brother’s lap. He fell asleep almost immediately; something he learned from spending time with the Dursley’s. He couldn’t fall asleep at will every time, but should the situation be stressed enough, he could.

Of course, he immediately snapped awake when their cabin door opened. He decided to feign sleep, just to know who it was. Going by the hand that suddenly landed in his hair, he figured that Draco knew he was awake.

“Hey, _Blaise._ How was the rest of your break?”

“Wonderful, Draco, thanks.” Harry went still as a finger poked his cheek. “I know you’re awake. Harry. You sleep enough around me that I can tell the difference.”

Harry grumbled as he cracked open an eye. “You could have played along, Blaise.”

The Italian grinned. “I loved my Christmas present, Harry. How was the treacle tart and candy bar?” 

“It was…” Harry sighed in memory of the wonderful treats. “Simply exquisite.”

“Good.” Blaise sat down beside Draco, pulling Harry’s feet onto his lap. “I got you only the best.”

“Mm hmm.” Harry said sleepily.

Just as he rolled over to fall back asleep, the cabin door once again banged open. The chatter of Daphne and Pansy reached his ears, and he turned his head to glare at the two. They ignored him for the most part, except for a moment when Daphne gushed over her perfume and Pansy congratulated him on such a good prank, then the two returned to their inane noisiness. Harry huffed and rolled over to go to sleep anyway.

Draco was probably the only one who caught his smile.

The return to Hogwarts, however, immediately ruined Harry’s good mood, as it seemed to tend to do for the young raven. The school had been, according to Pansy, thrown up on by a drunk Christmas fairy. It was horrible. It was worse than the Halloween dance. Harry couldn’t even explain it. But he did know that it all had to do with Dumbledore. It was _always_ Dumbledore.

In the Great Hall, at the Slytherin table, Harry glared at the mistletoe that seemed to be nearing him every time he looked away. With Blaise to his right and the girls to his left, he wasn’t taking any chances. Across from him, Draco laughed. Harry turned his glare to his brother.

“Laugh all you want. Wait till a mistletoe ends up over _your_ head.” Harry smirked as the blonde paled. To Draco’s left was Millicent Bulstrode, and to his right was Marcus Flint.

**_“Oh shut it, you git.”_ **

**_“Oh, but Draco, you have such a wonderful selection to chose from. Rotten mouth, and bull girl.”_** Harry teased.

At that moment, Harry wished he could take back everything he just said. Surely, he had jinxed it. Because at that moment, the sly mistletoe slipped over his head and glowed red, catching everyone’s attention. Harry paled as he felt Blaise’s intense gaze on him.

“Harry…” Draco began to snicker behind his hand.

“I know Draco.” The raven whispered then whipped around to glare at Blaise, who was inching closer to him. “Move another inch and you will lose a limb, Zabini.”

Blaise merely grinned and, before Harry realized what happened, swooped in and quickly kissed him on the cheek. Harry turned furious red, even as he reached up and smacked Blaise away. Across the table, Draco laughed at him while at his side, the girls giggled and cooed.

“Blaise!” Harry glared at the darker skinned boy.

“Yes, Harry?” Blaise asked innocently.

Instead of verbally responding, Harry merely narrowed his eyes as an enigmatic smirk tilted his lips. Draco, practically able to feel what his twin was thinking, shivered slightly. Blaise’s grin dropped and he gulped, skin lighting as he paled.

When the feast was over, Blaise was careful to have Draco between Harry and his self, watching the raven from the corner of his eye. Harry was still smirking, not even sparing Blaise a glance as he strutted for the dorm.

~oOo~

Carefully tying his long blonde hair to the nape of his neck, Lucius checked his robes for any creases or loose dust, nodding in satisfaction to find the black cloth was still in its prime. It had been years since he wore such specific robes, but they still fit perfectly. Of course they did, as Lucius only had the best.

Taking a deep breath, he apparated to the specified location. Severus was there waiting for him, and he greeted his long time old friend with a nod and a slight smirk. The slightly shorter raven gestured with a nod of his head for Lucius to follow him.

A short trip later and Lucius was met with a blood red gaze that were a new addition, not to mention the body was completely unfamiliar. But nonetheless, the power that radiated throughout the room was unmistakable.

“Lucius…” The voice caressed his name, the ever-present dangerous edge giving the moniker a unique accent. “My most loyal subject…”

Lucius inclined his head. “My lord. It is good to see you again, though the body might not be yours…”

“Yes…” Red eyes narrowed. “But we are aiming to fix that, are we not?”

“Of course, my lord.” Lucius tilted his head up, considering. “What is it you require of me, my lord, in order to remedy this…ailment of yours?”

A slightly sinister laugh slid through the room. “Ever ready to serve, aren’t you Lucius?”

“As always, my lord.”

“As it should be. My dear little blonde…I need you to find a very specific book on rituals.”

Lucius arched a brow. “What kind of ritual are we talking about, my lord?”

“One…that will help me get my body back.”

~oOo~

In the dorms, Harry shivered. The foreboding feeling he had passed over to Draco, who also shivered, then looked up at Harry. Said raven returned his look.

“What was that, Harry?”

“I do not know.” Harry bit his lip. “But soon, either something very bad, or very good, is going to happen”


	7. The Forbidden Forest

“I wonder why the forest near the school is forbidden.” Harry randomly said aloud one Sunday afternoon.

He, Draco, and their small group of friends were in the common room, sitting in chairs near the fire. After the ‘mistletoe incident’, as people began to call it, the other dorm members took to avoiding Harry as much as possible after witnessing what happened to Blaise in retaliation for kissing Harry. It was so horrible and embarrassing that no one took the risk to utter it, hence why it was all referred to as the mistletoe incident. They did not want to evoke Harry’s wrath, and took the best choice by simply avoiding him as much as possible.

End result: Harry and the rest tended to have the advantage of getting whatever seat in the commons they wanted, such as the closets chairs to the fireplace.

They also had a slight bit of power too: if they wanted silence, everyone didn’t even remember why they were talking in the first place; if they wanted to be alone, everyone suddenly had something to do that required them to be in another room.

Blaise was, of course, perfectly fine. After a trip to the hospital wing, anyway. Harry never aimed for permanent damage.

Draco, who was pillowed on Daphne’s lap, sat up to give Harry a look. “Because it is dangerous, obviously.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Then why would the school be here? And if the school came first, why would someone allow such dangerous creatures inside what could have been a perfectly safe forest? And if both possibilities were in fact impossible, why not set up wards to prevent students from going inside?”

“How do you know there are not any wards?” Blaise pointed out from his seat beside Harry.

“Because then Dumbledore either would not have given that warning, or he would have informed us that there was a ward.” Harry retaliated.

“Why does it matter Harry?” Daphne groaned. She, along with the rest of their ragtag group, knew that if they let Harry get an idea in his head, he would pursue it until all his question were answered, or there was an acceptable reason to why his question couldn’t be answered.

“Because if this is supposed to be a safe environment, then how could they allow something like that to be in our proximity?” Harry huffed. “The third corridor had been warned to give you a ‘horrible, most painful death’ and a troll got into the school. Just how safe _is_ Hogwarts?”

“Well, what do you want to do, Harry? Go into the Forbidden Forest?” Pansy snapped.

Everyone groaned and glared at Pansy, who suddenly looked contrite as she realized exactly what she did. A smirk came over Harry’s face as his eyes lit up.

“Yes, I will in fact. Tonight.”

Blaise sat up and gave him a look. “I am going with you, Harry.”

“So am I.” Draco drawled, already knowing where this is all going.

“Well, if Draco is going, then I am too.” Daphne and Pansy chorused.

“Great.” Harry stood. “I am going to go prepare.”

When he left, they all shared a look.

“Why do I feel as if he planned all of that?” Blaise said.

Draco snorted. “Because he did.”

The rest in the room outside their group stayed silent and kept to themselves. They knew that if they even thought of ratting the group out, they would have to face the consequence. Of which would more than likely be decided by Harry. That was a little too scary for them.  

~oOo~

Night fell quickly, and Harry was practically thrumming with excitement. His face was blank as ever, however, as he faced his friends. They were once again in the commons, but unlike before, the air was now tense. 

“Harry, do we really have to do this with you?” Blaise complained, straightening his heavy black coat.

The raven arched a brow. “You are the one who said you are going with me, Blaise.”

Blaise huffed. “I know what I said.”

“Then there should be no problem.”

“Oh, be quiet.”

Daphne snorted. “There is something wrong with the two of you.”

“Why, Daphne, I didn’t think you were capable of giving compliments.” Harry smirked, smoothing down his own cloak. “Shall we?”

He turned and strutted towards the door. The others had no choice but to follow. Draco in particular frowned and increased his pace so that he was walking side by side with his twin.

“Harry, what exactly is the purpose of us doing this?”

“To find out why it is so ‘forbidden’, of course.” Harry replied immediately.

Draco could not respond, as by that point, they had left their dorms and were in the halls of the school. Professors patrolled the halls throughout the night, and it would put their House to shame should they be caught. It was a grueling process as Filch and his cat being their main worries made them more cautious, and causing them to move slower.

But alas, they made it to the front doors without a hitch. There was a brief pause when they had to hide, as Quirrell walked through the hall they were trying to enter. Harry was sure the man knew they were there, quite certain he saw a smirk, but they had not been caught; therefore he hadn’t dwelled on it too long.

There was another pause, right before the hall leading to the front doors, when Filch passed. Thankfully, he had been too busy cackling about something to notice them. They sighed in relief; any time Filch was in a good mood that meant that someone got a harsh detention, and it also meant that he would leave all the other students alone for at least a good week.

And then they were outside. Everyone, save Harry, shuddered and pulled their cloaks closer to their bodies as the brisk winter wind blew fiercely. The forest was just to their left, as was Hagrid’s hut. They saw no lights coming from the hut, nor did they saw smoke rising from the chimney, and assumed that Hagrid either wasn’t there or was asleep.

Smirking, Harry quickly made his way across the slightly wet grass. When he passed by Hagrid’s hut, he stopped and paused for a moment. Eyes narrowing, he turned to face the depleted building.

“Fang is not there.”

“Fang?” Blaise came up beside him. “You mean Hagrid’s mutt dog?”

“Yes.” Harry eye’s scanned the area. “He is not here.”

“Then that mean Hagrid’s not here.” Draco said, frowning. “Then where is the half-giant?”

Harry’s eyes widened and he turned to the dark forest in front of them. “In the forest, with students. That is why Filch was so happy. There are students serving detention by going into the forest.”

Pansy gasped. “Who would allow such a thing?”

“Obviously Dumbledore.” Harry snorted. “Come on, let us continue.”

Blaise stopped him before he could move forward by grabbing his arm. “Harry, you cannot be serious. We definitely cannot go in there with a professor in there.”

“The forest is large; it is unlikely he will find us so easily, Blaise.”

“But—.”

The dark skinned boy was cut off as Harry yanked his arm away. “Fine, stay. Go back to the castle, to the dorm.” He turned away with a flick of his cape. “Coward.”

Indigo eyes widened as Harry strutted off, towards the forest. The others looked at Blaise, at his pale expression. It was obvious he was fighting with himself on whether or not to follow Harry anyway. His gut instinct told him to go back to the castle, but his mind told him to stay with Harry, protect him.

Just as the others turned away to leave Blaise and follow Harry—who was practically in the forest by this point—the dark skinned youth’s face hardened with determination and he took sure, long strides as he hastened to catch up with Harry. The others followed after him, naturally. Harry didn’t look up when Blaise stopped beside him, but a small smile curled his lips upward.

As was expected of such a Slytherin, everything went as he planned so far.

Five minutes passed before they were truly inside the forest. The trees grew so thick and heavy that not one beam of moonlight shone through the leaves. Both Harry and Draco pulled out their wands and casted a Lumos—a spell Lucius taught them both a few days after Harry’s arrival, when he realized the raven had nightmares and tended to shirk away from things in the dark. The others pulled closer to them as the foreboding darkness of the forest itself seemed to close on them.   

Harry was fascinated with the place. When the Lumos trick hadn’t worked as well as Lucius had hoped it would, he took a pause in his original lessons with Harry in order to teach the raven to embrace the darkness. To take it and use it as a comfort. That seemed to work with Harry; the trick had evolved and now he found more comfort in the cover of darkness than before, in the light. Or maybe he just had a naturally inclination to shadows.

Hence, he was not bothered by the darkness of the forest. In fact, he welcomed it. Unlike the others, who were too busy focusing on the light, he saw past the dark and saw the eyes peering curiously at them from the shadows. The beautiful flowers that apparently only bloomed in the night. The intricate way the trees and branches curved and twisted around each other.

Then a blood-curdling scream broke the mysterious silence of the forest.   

~oOo~

“Harry, can you please listen to me next time?” An ashen faced Blaise said.

It was the next morning after the incident in the forest, and everyone looked worse for wear. None of them had gotten any sleep last night. Not after what they heard. But contrary to what they all would think, Harry looked rather pleased. Not that they should have expected anything different from the strange thinking raven.

“Nope.” Harry popped the ‘p’ at the end, taking a bite out of an apple—his breakfast for the morning, accompanied by a scone after being glared at by Draco.

“Harry!” Blaise exclaimed in exasperation. “Those centaurs were serious! How can you just ignore what they said?”

“I am not ignoring them.” Harry snapped. “I heard loud and clear what they said. I spent all night turning it over in my head. I can recognize a warning when I hear one Blaise, but that is all it is. A warning. They did not doing anything.”

Daphne looked up. “But they can. And they will. How is this not affecting you, Harry?”

Harry gritted his teeth and stood. “It is affecting me. Just because I’m not wallowing over it like you idiots are does not mean I am untouched by Firenze’s words. And I am sorely disappointed to realize that you guys do not see this. Excuse me, I must leave. Do not approach me.”

Draco stood, but stopped when Harry held up a hand and quickly strode from the Great Hall. A hurt look flashed across the blonde’s face as he slumped back into his chair. The others all looked down, the prickling of the eyes of their fellow Slytherin’s making them uncomfortable.

“He is angry at us.” Pansy whispered.

Blaise snorted. “You think, Pansy?”

“Guys, please. Do not fight.” Daphne sighed. “It was all of our faults for thinking of him as insensitive when we all know it’s the complete opposite.”

“What are we going to do to fix it?” Pansy asked.

Draco snorted. “Nothing, really. He is more hurt than angry. Harry’s almost like an animal; when hurt and backed into a corner, he will lash out. We will all end up in the hospital wing and he _then_ will be angry. First, we must wait until he calms down.”

All the way across Hogwarts, a grumbling Harry stomped into the library. Oh, the audacity of those idiots. And they dare call themselves his friends? Who needs friends anyway? All they do is take up space, and waste your time and energy.

Inside the library, Harry hunted for a quiet place to sit and think. Classes began during his search, but he felt no urge to go. If he did, he would have to see _their_ faces, and at the moment that was something he did not want. He sat down on the floor, and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. Firenze’s words haunted his mind.

_“Beware, young one who is engulfed by shadows, for your actions can take you down two paths. It is up to you, and your choices, to decide which path that may be. One will grant what you want the most, and the other, what you fear. You must figure out your true wants and fears, and soon, lest time passes and then it will be too late. Heed my words, young of the darkness, for next time you enter the land of centaurs, it will be my arrow in your head, not words. It seems the stars are constantly crossing for you, dark one, and we will have no involvement in it.”_

Since then, Harry had been worrying over the words in his head. Of course, he would not dare tread into the centaur’s land again without permission. He would still go back to the Forbidden Forest, however, as not all of it was the centaurs’.

He knew what Firenze was saying, but what did it all mean? He was only eleven; there was no possible way he could know what he truly wanted. Or what he truly feared. How long did he have until it was ‘too late’, like Firenze said. Was it in an actual quantity of time, or was it meant to be metaphorical, such as if his personality or psyche goes through a change? It was all too much for Harry to handle.

Time passed quickly for Harry, as he stayed deeply immersed in his thoughts. No one found him, as he did not _want_ to be found, and therefore there was nothing to alert him to the changing of the time. He had actually planned to go to class once he’d calmed down, but than he began to think about things, and before he knew it, it was lunch time.    

“—Arry..Harry! Mr. Malfoy!”

Harry’s head snapped up and he came face-to-face with an amused Quirrell. The man was crouching in front of him, sitting on his haunches with his arms dangling between his legs and an eyebrow arched almost lazily.

“Professor…”

“Care to explain to me _why_ you missed my class?” The man drawled.

“Ah!” Harry blinked as the smell of lunch wafted up to him coming from the Great Hall. He cleared his throat and looked away. “I apologize, professor. I…had a lot on my mind and time completely flew by.”

Quirrell shifted. “Would you like to talk about it? I hear sometimes it is best to let out things that require all your focus.”

Harry hesitated, but only for a brief moment. “Professor…if someone told you something that was very important, but you were unsure what to make of it or what to do about it, but you knew you absolutely had to…what would you do?”

“Quite a heavy question for one so young, is it not?” Quirrell’s eyes flashed red briefly.

“Please, if you could answer it?”

“Alright then, answer me this first: what does your heart tell you?”

“My heart?” Harry’s brow furrowed.

“Yes.” Quirrell nodded empathetically. “Your heart. Not your gut, or your head, as those sometimes lead you to rash decisions that could result in something not of your favor. I would know.”

The last was a mutter, and Quirrell’s eyes flashed deep red as he said it. Harry took a deep breath, nodding.

“For now, I will do as I did before. I feel…as if it is not yet the time for me to be worrying about such things.”

“Good.” Quirrell stood. “Next time you have a problem that requires you to miss my class, come talk to me about it before you do. Oh, and that will be ten points from Slytherin, young man.” 

Harry scowled, but accepted the punishment. He did something against the rules, and therefore had to face the consequence. That was the way things had to be.

After lunch, he attended his other periods. No reason to lose anymore House points, or catch a detention. Draco and the others tried to talk to him, but he avoided them. While he wasn’t still mad, he was hurt that they put so little belief in him. Especially Draco; his twin was supposed to know him best.  He did well not to show how hurt he was—this was possibly the best mask of his yet—and the others still thought he was angry. He was perfectly okay with that, as he wanted more time to think about things.

The rest of the day was rather bland. Only one blimp occurred, when he ran into Weasley, which proved to be entertaining. Who knew that Weasley was scared of spiders? Or that he could scream like a girl? It was funny making Weasley flush in embarrassment and shame when they locked eyes. Harry could remember when he and the others ran towards the scream, thinking someone was being attacked.

_A blood curdling scream pierced the air. Harry shared a look with the others before turning and running towards the direction of the scream. He stopped in surprise when he saw a large spider—probably about the size of his head—scuttling away. Then he looked up and saw one of the Weasley’s, pale and shivering as he pointed a shaking finger in the direction of the spider. The others caught up just in time to see the spider disappear into the foliage, and Weasley falling to his knees as his legs gave out._

_“S-s-spider! B-big s-spider!” The red headed stuttered out._

_Blaise began snickering, joined a moment later by Pansy and Daphne. Harry, mostly out of shock, stayed silent, and Draco’s face was red from the blonde trying not to laugh. It was then that Weasley noticed them standing there, and his face turned a hideous shade of red that contrasted horribly with his hair and freckles. The eleven year old scrambled off of the ground and ran away in the opposite direction of the spider._

_At that moment, the centaurs came thundering into the area._

Harry shook the memory from his head and looked back down at his work. After classes were done for the day, he went to all the professors who classes he missed and got the homework and classwork he missed. They wouldn’t give him the notes, however, which was something he resigned himself to have to get from Draco.

He frowned and bit the end of his quill, which he had yet to dip in the inkpot. Draco had been the first to notice Harry’s avoidance, and the blonde seemed really hurt about it. Harry could also sense his regret. Maybe he needed to have a talk with his twin.

Honestly, if anyone, then it was Draco who should have realized just how fascinating Harry found the Forbidden Forest, and just how hard it would be for him to take heed of the centaurs’ words and avoid the place. He just absolutely _had_ to go back. The place was just too bloody interesting.

Draco walked into the room at that moment, causing Harry to look up. They locked eyes for a moment, before Draco gave in first and looked away. Harry scowled and stood, and Draco took a step back.

“Dra—.”

“I apologize, Harry.” The blonde rushed. “I should not have jumped to conclusions so easily like how I did. I know it hurt you, and I really regret it.”

“No, Draco.” Harry strode forward until he was directly in front of his twin. “It is my fault. I should have made my intentions clearer, and for that I am sorry. I know I also hurt you by avoiding you like that.”

The blonde shook his head. “Harry, if we had not pushed you so far in the first place—.”

“Then I would not have had the time to think about things the way I did. I needed that time to think about what Firenze said to me.”

“Then…” Draco bit his lip. “You are not angry?”

Harry smirked. “No, my Dragon.”

Draco sighed in relief. “Good.”

After that, the rest of the year passed by with relative ease. Harry passed all of his classes as the top student, with Draco right after him in second, and the bushy-haired Mudblood as third. Harry admitted that the girl was smart for a Mudblood; had he not had such a love for reading that he was pre-advanced in all his classes, and that he forced Draco to be the same way, he was certain she would most definitely be the top student.

He never outwardly ‘forgave’ Blaise, which made the Italian youth rather paranoid and itching to please Harry. He had told Daphne and Pansy, but he never told Blaise that the dark skinned eleven year old was forgiven. Blaise spent nearly the rest of the school year trying to forgive Harry, before the raven finally let him off a week before the last day of school.

The Great Feast was nothing different from the one they received at the beginning of the school year. The only different thing was Dumbledore announcing the House cup, which Slytherin had won. Truth was, overall Slytherin was always the House to receive the less amount of points throughout, but unlike the other Houses, they rarely _lost_ any points. Harry was certain that in total Slytherin had lost only around thirty points—ten of which were attributed by Harry—which was more of a weekly basis lost for the other Houses. Gryffindor came in at a close second, as they had won majority of the Quidditch games—something Harry planned to remedy soon as second year began—and therefore gained bulks of points, most of which were lost by the twin Weasleys on a daily basis, which was a key factor in their loss. Ravenclaw came in third; their high intellect and eagerness to show it off gained them points in the class room. Hufflepuff was last, only second to Slytherin in the point gaining-wise.

Harry kept his eye on Quirrell throughout the meal. Something seemed different about the man, though he couldn’t place what it was exactly. Quirrell seemed…almost impatient. He was fidgeting, tapping his foot and moving around the food on his plate. Maybe he was eager to leave the students for the summer, as was how Harry also felt. Many times their eyes had locked, and every time, Quirrell’s eyes flashed red. Something was up with the man, and Harry was determined to find out what. Hopefully the man would be returning for his second year. Just like everyone else, Harry knew of the reputation of the DADA professoring position. No one ever lasted more than a year. Harry hoped that this was not the case with Quirrell.

The ride back to Platform 9 ¾ was much like it was when they were returning home for Winter break. Only had only Blaise to lay on, as the girls had taken Draco from him for their own comfort. He did not mind much, as long as he could sleep comfortably. And he didn’t even bat away Blaise’s hand when the Italian began to brush it through his hair.

Overall, the school year had not been so bad. Harry was actually looking forward to next year. But first, it was time to relax.

~oOo~

“My sons will be returning home from Hogwarts shortly, my lord.” Lucius glanced upwards demurely.

Bright red eyes looked down at him. “Sons? I was under the belief that you had only one child, Lucius.”

“I blood adopted one who came from an abusive Muggle family, my lord.”

“Abusive?” It came out as a hiss. “What is the name of this child you adopted, Lucius?”

Lucius hesitated. “My lord…”

“Tell me!”

“Harry Potter, my lord.”

Silence. Lucius dared to look up. Wide, red eyes stared at him in shock and disbelief.

“Harry…Malfoy…” He whispered, eyes growing unfocused as he thought. “Of course…I wondered how…but…he is nothing like…”

“M-my lord?” Lucius called tentatively.

“Lucius…I believe Dumbledore will be in for a surprise.” Red eyes grew bright with mirth and laughter. “His little ‘weapon’ came out nothing how he thought it would. I want to meet your children this summer, Lucius. As soon as the ritual is complete.”


	8. The Beginning of an Interesting Summer

The first two weeks of summer were spent in relative peace. Harry kept to himself most of the time, the only exceptions being when Draco came to bug him—which was not often as the blonde knew that Harry wanted time to himself—or when their friends came over.

Blaise was definitely the one who visited the most often. It was like he made it his life goal to be around Harry as much as he possibly could. Not that harry didn’t do anything to stop him; the raven found it rather endearing to have Blaise following after him like a love-sick puppy. Or rather, it appealed to his sadistic side to have such a loyal slave. Either way, the two were practically inseparable.   

Draco’s birthday was interesting. As Blaise and the girls already knew Harry’s story, and they had no other friends, he did not have to pretend to share the same birthday as his soul twin and would still celebrate it on his given day.

The day itself wasn’t too big of an experience. They all knew Draco did not care for extravagant things, preferring the subtleties in life much like Harry, and therefore planned accordingly. The blonde had a breakfast in bed, consisting of his favorite breakfast foods, and had a bit of time alone with each of his family members separately before Blaise and the girls arrived.

They played Quidditch for most of the day, stopping only when Narcissa demanded for them to come down and eat lunch. After eating, everyone gathered together to give Draco his presents and watched as he opened them. Then the five friends went off into the gardens, where they simply enjoyed each others’ company, as they did most days. Later that night, he and Harry stayed up playing chess on the bran new set his parents had gifted him. It was overall a good day for the blonde.   

It was not until the mark of the third week of summer break, nearing the end of June, that things began to change.

Lucius had been busy doing business since summer began, and so neither Draco nor Harry saw much of him often, mostly just at breakfast. Therefore, it came as a surprise to the both of them when the man approached them one afternoon in the library.

“Harry, Draco.” He nodded to them. “Tomorrow afternoon we will be having a very special guest coming. He would like to meet the both of you. I expect you to dress your very best and act appropriately. He will most likely spend the entire afternoon here, so no visits from your friends.”

Draco set down his book and sat up. “Who is coming, Father?”

“You will find out tomorrow. I will, however, tell you this. Do not speak unless he speaks to you first, and immediately answer any question he asks of you.”

After that, Lucius walked out. Harry and Draco walked out. Who was this man who caused Lucius to give them such explicit instructions? To purposely tell them to behave properly, when they have never acted out of term? It was rather obvious to the twins that their father was nervous.

The next day came quickly. Draco forced Harry to eat breakfast quickly, as Lucius’ instruction of ‘dress your very best’ to Draco was an excuse to primp all day, and that did include Harry. Remembering the Halloween ball, Harry was very reluctant to dress him, but he knew he didn’t have a choice.

They had immediately went to Floo their friends, after Lucius had left yesterday, and tell them that tomorrow they would be unavailable because they were having a guest. The three all understood and so Draco had all day to primp his self and Harry until their guest arrived.

It wasn’t until literally a few minutes before the time their guest was supposed to arrive that Draco was complete with dressing the both of them.

Harry wore his long, raven colored hair tied with a pale green ribbon at the nape of his neck. His robes were a deep, shimmering black that illuminated his pale skin, with green trimming and inner cloth the same color as his ribbon that lightened the green in his eyes.

Like Harry, Draco had his hair tied back at the nape of his neck, just his ribbon was light blue instead of green. His robes were of the same cut and color as well, but as before, the green was replaced with light blue. Together, the two looked like angels come down to Earth.

An idea blossomed in Harry’s head when he noticed Nox and Snow curled up on the bed together, his snake completely wrapped around Draco’s mini Crup. As Harry predicted at the beginning of the year, Snow’s magic had simply been settling and now she was a hyper ball of white fluff. She was also much bigger than she had been; too big to be carried around in Draco’s robes, or even in his arms, but still too small be the size of an average Crup. Harry’s lips curled upwards in a smirk.

“Brother, we should take Snow and Nox with us.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “Father would kill us.”

“He would not.” Harry scoffed, making his way towards the bed. “He likes showing off.”

“Not so obviously, Harry.” Draco followed his brother.

Harry smirked. “Then we will not be so obvious about it, Draco.”

The blonde put his hands on his hips. “And how will we accomplish that?”

“They are our familiars.” Harry reached out and caressed Nox’s obsidian scales with the tips of his fingers. “It is only natural that they follow us wherever we go.”

“But ours do not do that.”

“Our guest does not know that.”

Draco blinked as he caught on, and then sighed. “Oh, alright Harry. You had better be right.”

“I am always right, my Dragon.”

As if reading their minds, both Nox and Snow woke up simultaneously and looked up at them. Snow yipped and slid out of Nox’s scaly grasp to bound towards Draco. Nox was a bit more subdued, slowly slithering to Harry as he yawned loudly.

_“Are we going somewhere, Master?”_

_“We have a guest today, a very important one. Will you be fine slithering at my side instead of being curled around my arm?”_

Nox’s tongue flicked out. _“Of course not. I need exercise anyway.”_

Harry arched a brow. _“You are a snake.”_

_“Who can get fat.”_

“Harry, if you are done chatting away with your snake, if we do not leave now, we will be late.” Draco said with a smirk, turning for the door with Snow by his side.

“Oh.” Harry looked up briefly at his twin before quickly setting Nox to the ground and rushing after Draco.

The two—plus their familiars—rushed downstairs to the study, where they were to meet Lucius and their guest. They barely had enough time to speed into the room and quickly give each other a once-over when the Floo flared up brilliant green and Lucius stepped out, absently dusting off his clothes as his eyes searched the room for them. He arched a brow when he saw Nox coiled at Harry’s feet, and Snow sitting on her haunches—tongue lolled out and tails wagging—behind Draco, but otherwise said nothing.

Once again, the Floo flared brightly, and out stepped a man with eyes a shade that made Harry’s own widen in recognition. The shape was different, but that wintry, blood red gaze was something not easily forgotten. But this man was as far from being Quirrell as possible.

He was tall—taller than Lucius, and possibly even Severus—with broad shoulders and a wide chest that tapered to a well-defined abdomen and a narrow waist. He had a head full of thick, curly black hair that framed his aristocratic face nicely. His red eyes were narrow and slanted upwards, accented by his high cheekbones and long, straight nose. His lips were tilted in a slight smirk, dark pink and full. He wore robes just as formal as Harry and Draco’s, but cut in a different style, black with deep red inner cloth and trimming.

Feeling a nudge from Draco, Harry recalled the words Lucius had gave them that morning.

“When our guest arrives, you are to immediately bow at the waist and say ‘my lord’. Is that understood?”

Simultaneously, Harry and Draco did exactly that, their melodic voices contrasted and yet harmonized as they murmured ‘my lord’ as they bowed and rose. The man tsked and glanced at Lucius.

“Lucius.” His voice was low but easily carried through the room, waves a power radiating from that one word. “What have you been teaching these two?”

“Just to have the upmost respect in your presence, my lord.” The blonde replied with a slight inclination of his head.

The man tsked again. “And to bow at me, cowed, as if they were equal to those simpering idiots I will soon have to deal with?”

“My lord—.”

“Tell me, Lucius, do you bow to me? Or even Severus?”

“…No, my lord.”

“Because I hold you in high-esteem, yes?” The man strode forward and grabbed the twins’ chins in each hand, long fingers cupping their jaws. “And so why would I have these adorable children of yours do that same, dearest Lucius?”

Lucius arched a brow. “Forgive me, my lord, for assuming wrongfully.”

“It is no longer of any matter.” The man kept his eyes trained on the twins, though he released their faces. “Tell me, do either of you know who I am?”

Harry quickly glanced at Lucius, before steadying his gaze on the man. “A few months ago, sir, you were our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrell. Of course, you do not look the same at all now. My lord.”

The man arched a brow. “Indeed. And how did you figure that out, Harry?”

“Well…” Harry smirked faintly, unable to hold it back. “Your eyes, my lord.”

“My eyes?” The man blinked in surprise. “Ah. You caught that inevitable flash of red, then? How observant.”

“I would like to think so. My lord.”

The man tsked. “Enough with the ‘my lord’. Tom will do just fine.” His gaze shifted to include Draco. “For the both of you.”

“My lord?” Lucius stepped forward.

Tom turned to face him. “Oh hush, Lucius. I know what I am doing.”

“Of course you do, my lord.” Lucius smirked lightly, much like Harry had done. “I was merely going to suggest a late lunch? I know you did not eat earlier.”

“A wonderful idea. Shall we all?” He turned to ask Harry and Draco, who both nodded hesitantly. “Excellent. Will you lead us, Lucius?”

“Yes, my lord.” With a swish of his robes, Lucius exited the room.

Tom placed a hand on either of the twin’s shoulder and lead them too from the room. The dining room wasn’t too far from the study they were previously in, and so they were quickly seated and waiting for the house elves to whip them up something to eat.

“Harry.” The raven looked up as at the sibilant call of his name. Tom regarded him with warm, red eyes. “From what I remembered during the beginning of the school year, you showed a particular interest in Defense Against the Dark Arts?”

He nodded. “Yes, sir. About why it was called _Defense_ Against the Dark Arts.”

“Yes.” Tom sat back and crossed his legs. “I wondered if you would like to continue our discussion, as we are no longer faced with the restrictions of a classroom.”

Harry’s eyes widened as he stared at Tom, even as the food appeared on the table. “I—Yes, I very much so would.”

“Excellent.” Tom turned away for a brief moment to poor himself a cup of tea and grab a sandwich. “I enjoyed your analogy using Wingardium Leviosa Maxima. I myself never thought to use such a thing. It would certainly deviate from a certain spell I am supposedly known for, wouldn’t it Lucius?”

Lucius snorted softly. “Yes, my lord.”

Tom smiled and turned back to Harry. “Harry, how well was the class, in your opinion?”

“Well…” Harry shifted a bit. “Disregarding the fact that none of it could truly be applied for practical use…the class was very enjoyable. You were a very animate, engaging teacher, and therefore I found myself interested and more observant in your class, compared to others.”

“Hmm…you are not just saying that to get in my good graces, are you Harry?”

Harry’s eyes widened. “No, sir.”

“Good.” Tom sipped his tea as he observed Harry. “A question, if I may, Harry?”

“Ah, yes?”

“How would you, and of course you too Draco, like to _truly_ learn Defense Against the Dark Arts? Or rather, the Dark Arts?”

“W-what…?” Harry and Draco said in simultaneous incredulity.

Tom smirked. “I agreed with you when you said you thought the Dark Arts involved one’s magical core. I believe that someone is born with a natural inclination towards the Dark Arts, the way their magical core is more suited to the finer points and the power needed for a Dark spell. I believe that a person shows certain characteristics in their persona that reveals such an inclination. I myself thought of the same things as you when I was your age. Maybe a bit older.”

“And you think that Harry and I fall under such category?” Draco asked quietly, Harry nodding his head in agreement.

“I do.” Tom spread his hands. “But it is up to you.”

“Yes.” Harry said immediately. When Draco didn’t reply just as quickly, he subtly elbowed his twin in the ribs.

“I will too.” Draco kicked Harry under the table.

“Stop fighting, the both of you.” Lucius scolded.

Tom snorted. “Let them be, Lucius. They are boys, brothers at that.”

Lucius sighed. “Yes, my lord.”

“That reminds me.” Tom mused, his eyes landing on Harry once again. “Harry, did you know we are related? Well, before the blood adoption, anyway, when you were still a Potter.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “How?”

“Through Cadmus Peverell of the three Peverell brothers. My great-something grandfather, and your great-something uncle.” Tom smiled. “We are distant cousins.”

“Wow…” Harry looked down. So he did have family from his old bloodlines beyond the Dursleys. He was not sure how he felt about that. “Even though…we are no longer related through blood…can we—can we still be cousins?”

Tom reached out and put his hand atop Harry’s head. “Of course, Harry. I expected no less.”

“Good.” Harry breathed in relief.       

“Indeed.” Tom sipped at his tea.

In the lull, Snow’s sneaking of Draco’s food became apparent as all eyes, no longer occupied by conversation, were drawn to the movement. She froze, a small cookie held delicately between her teeth, her head barely clearing the table, even as she stretched. Draco’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment as they all watched the mini Crup slowly replace the cookie on the plate and slink under the table.

“A magnificent creature you have there, Draco.” Tom said mildly into the growingly awkward silence. “A miniature Crup, if I am not mistaken. A rare white breed.”

“Ah, yes sir.” Draco cleared his throat.

“And Harry, I believe I saw a snake following after you?” He inquired.

Harry’s eyes lit up at the thought of Nox. “Yes! _Nox, if you would please reveal yourself?”_

Tom’s brow rose. _“You are a Parselmouth, Harry?”_

 _“A Parselmouth?”_ Harry’s head tilted to the side, eyes glancing down as Nox slithered up his leg and then up his arm. _“What is that?”_

_“It is someone who can speak this language, Harry. Parseltongue.”_

_“Parseltongue.”_ Harry looked surprise. “ _We are not speaking English?”_

Tom sighed and rubbed his brow. “Speaking in another language and not even realizing it. I cannot believe it. Harry, I will help you learn to…consciously switch over to Parseltongue.”

“Um…” Harry flushed. “ _Thank you_.”

“Of course.”

~oOo~

The rest of the day was spent in light conversation, but Harry was exhausted by the end of it. Tom had such a large, intimidating presence that it was hard not to feel nervous, not to stutter and fidget.

He could tell that Draco was just as tired as he was. The blonde immediately flopped ungracefully onto his bed when they made it back to their room. Harry grinned and sat down next to him, carding his hand through his brother’s hair.

“Are you okay, Draco?”

“ _No.”_ The blonde pushed himself up to glare at Harry. “For majority of the time he was only focused on you, and even then I felt like pissing my pants.”

Harry laughed. “Good thing you did not. I think father would have popped a vein if you did.”

“Did you notice how tense he was?” Draco snorted. “I wonder why. Tom seemed nice, once you got past the whole…”

“Scariness?”

Draco shrugged. “Pretty much. But from the way they spoke to each other, I would assume father and Tom have known each other for years.”

“Maybe there is something about Tom we do not know that father does?”

“Maybe.” Draco sighed. “Maybe not. If there is, we probably will not know about it until we are considerably older.”

“Maybe so.” Harry yawned. “Merlin, am I tired.”

Draco chucked off his robe, shoes, and trousers, and crawled under the blankets. “I am going to sleep.”

Harry sighed. “Draco, you are going to wrinkle your shirt.” 

A moment later, the said piece of clothing flew to the floor. Harry snorted, but quickly followed after his brother, and soon the twins were underneath the blankets, in nothing but their pants, fast asleep.

* * *

Guys, this will probably be the last chapter I'm updating for a while. I kind of have been neglecting my other stories and those need updating too, so I'm going to put all my focus there. 

 


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